Harry Potter and the War Within
by 1hoopyfrood
Summary: War erupts with a terror campaign, but Harry's warnings through his scar allows the Ministry to fight back. Harry also trains others to fight, but when they begin to fight among each other, LV plots to attack them directly.
1. Puzzlement

Chapter 1 Puzzlement

TO ACHIEVE PEACE, PRACTICE FORGIVENESS AND GOODWILL

The words were seared into Harry's mind like a brand on a calf. Harry had stood for more than an hour staring at these words scant weeks earlier in an ancient Egyptian shrine. Voldemort had laid plans for years to get access to the site. Voldemort's plans had all come to a head this past year when Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, prompted both by his hatred of goblins and an Imperius Curse, had led an army of wizards behind a pair of graphorns modified to cause goblin heliopathy in an attack on Gringotts' Bank to gain access to the key that would open the shrine.

All the hundreds of goblins of Gringotts were helpless against the heliopathy, and would surely have died, except that the goblin healer Melony had alerted Harry and her boyfriend Dobby, who had destroyed the heliopaths while the older students of the Defense Association trapped the wizard army in Gringotts. With the threat of heliopathy gone, the goblins counterattacked against the invading army and defeated it, with the last remnants of the army driven out of Hogwarts into an inescapable crossfire from the students of the DA.

The only Hogwarts' fatality was Marietta Edgecombe, who had provided cover for the DA to get into position. Harry was the only other student casualty, having suffered substantial wounds after destroying the graphorns, but the physical wounds were easily healed. Not so easily healed was the emotional wound, as Harry had fallen in love with Marietta, and still loved her, though she had broken up with him.

In the aftermath, it was proven that Dobby was actually a goblin whose exposure to sunlight had made him elflike and that he was the owner of the vault where the key to the shrine had been placed years ago by his family, before all but he were murdered by Death Eaters looking for the key.

Dobby, Harry, Dumbledore and Hermione had traveled to Egypt to open the shrine. It was expected to have some sort of instructions for some great magic. Most had expected a recipe for a potion. Voldemort had expected instructions for immortality: after all, the ancient Egyptians had been preoccupied with overcoming death, and the inscription had said that it contained the path to what is great. Others had expected an incantation for an immensely powerful spell. However, the words when revealed said only "To Achieve Peace, Practice Forgiveness and Goodwill." There was no apparent incantation or potion recipe, no readily performable magic, and yet Dumbledore had been most impressed. And after all, the ancient Egyptian wizards had found these words to be so valuable that not only had they built a shrine for viewing them and encapsulated them in a charmed ruby the size of a snitch, but they had also protected the shrine with charms which had foiled the best that Voldemort, or the goblins, or wizard charm-breakers could throw at it. None of the mummies or troves of ancient Egypt were as well-protected as this.

Harry himself had stood transfixed. At first he was mesmerized by the promise of peace, for which his heart ached like it would collapse, having lost yet another in a string of people he loved lost to the fight against Voldemort. Then his attention shifted to the mystery of the instructions. Harry had barely been aware of Dumbledore discussing the message with Hermione, and only recalled it much later as he mulled over the events of that day. Dumbledore had said that this was the way that Harry could unlock power enough to overcome any evil.

But as usual Dumbledore was short on details. Harry got the impression that Dumbledore was leaving it to him to figure out, just as he had since Harry had come to Hogwarts' School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Harry knew now that Dumbledore had been watching over Harry for some time, his whole life really, but had generally left Harry to figure things out for himself – with the occasional nudge or protection - and learn to deal with the challenges that faced him. Harry knew that Dumbledore felt that everyone should learn by doing and must meet their own challenges. Still, Harry's challenges had been extraordinary, and he didn't know if he could have brought himself to let someone meet all of those with no more preparation than Harry had. For all that, though, Harry had to admit that Dumbledore had cultivated in him an ability to deal with pain and danger and to face evil and fear beyond that of anyone he knew.

Now it was three weeks since he had viewed those words in the otherworldly setting of the shrine and he was back in the very muggle setting of his bedroom at his aunt and uncle's house at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, UK. Other boys his age, 16 still for another month and a few days, were worried about girlfriends and zits and the latest tunes. Or maybe it was sports and electronic games and the Internet or … whatever. Harry had very little insight into what normal boys did. He had never been a normal boy, although he had wanted to be one and usually felt like he ought to be one. He did not feel all that special. He knew the things he had done set him apart, but he looked at those like they applied to someone else, just as the title he had carried since his parents were killed – The Boy Who Lived – was something apart from him, even though it applied to him.

Rather than the concerns of a normal boy, Harry knew that he stood between the entire world and the unleashing of death, destruction and subjugation to an extent that no one had ever previously conceived. And to prevent this disaster, he had to figure out those words – "To Achieve Peace, Practice Forgiveness and Goodwill" – and somehow do them. And as Harry thought about them, he knew that he only knew what those words meant in a very abstract sense. He had no idea how to apply them in any useful way.

Harry had settled back into the routine he had established the previous summer quite readily. He continued his early morning runs, workouts at the Recreation Center, and studying and practicing the incantations and movements for spells. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings, he boxed with his cousin Dudley at the Recreation Center, with Uncle Vernon refereeing. On Tuesday and Thursday evenings Harry helped with the yard work, now that the members of the Order of the Phoenix were convinced that he was not being abused. Tuesday afternoons were spent at Mrs. Figg's house, helping her brew potions. Dumbledore was making arrangements already for Harry to visit classmates at their houses on the weekends. Just in case, Harry was never without his 2 magic wands, and carried a couple of drumsticks along with them, so it would look like he was just another teen boy wanting to be a rock band drummer, always ready to practice riffs on any available surface.

But through it all, Harry was pondering what the message meant, what it required of him. His consternation was not for want of trying. As he did things, he thought often of how much he cared for the people he knew, even when they were not at their best, and how many good things there were in the world. He was aware of the many bad things as well, but they all seemed solvable, if only people would make the effort, and he saw that many people, at least those he saw, were trying to solve problems, though sometimes they only saw only their local or personal problems, and not the big picture. It pained Harry to think, and even to have visions, of the death and destruction that would come if he himself did not solve the problem that faced him – Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The thought of the awful things they had and would do filled him with loathing, and yet he knew that whatever else the message from the shrine meant, learning not to hate people was a part of it.

Realizing he needed help, one evening Harry took out his mirror which communicated with a matching mirror Dumbledore had. These had belonged to his father and his godfather, Sirius Black, both now dead. If he had been back at Hogwarts, Harry might have talked with his portrait of Sirius, but a talking animate portrait was just too much to have around a muggle house, and it didn't help that his relatives had seen Sirius on the telly identified as a convicted murderer.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry spoke into the mirror, and soon Dumbledore's visage appeared.

"Yes, Harry. How are you?"

"Fine, sir. Trying to figure out the message from Egypt."

"Excellent. Are you making any progress?

"Not really; that's why I called. The words are just that to me - words. Most of the people I know try to be what they conceive of as good people, sometimes with only a vague notion of what that is, but I don't think I've ever heard anyone talking about practicing forgiveness and goodwill. About the only circumstances in which I hear of forgiveness is when a bad debt gets written off. And goodwill is only mentioned in the Christmas banners - you know, 'Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards Men.' But nobody talks about actually acting that way. It's just pretty words at the end of the year."

"You have come farther than you think, Harry. You know that the concepts are empty for most people and that practicing them means more than just saying them. Your relatives never took you to church I take it?"

"No, sir. They went to services at the local church at Easter, but they never brought me. The rest of the year, Uncle Vernon would just grumble about what a fraud the churches are."

"Unfortunately, sometimes they are. As you have learned of the Ministry, any institution – governments, religions, businesses, unions, clubs - can be abused by those who see only a source of authority or power in it, rather than an opportunity to help their fellows. Nonetheless, there are good people in government, and good people in religion. It is the latter that you have need of."

"No chance you could just make it all clear to me?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "Even if I had the words to express it all clearly, they would not make sense to you until you had confronted all the issues in your own heart and mind."

"So I need to go find a priest and talk it all out?"

"Actually, I've made arrangements for someone to come to you. Someone I know to be an excellent teacher of such matters. In fact, he is the Hogwarts chaplain."

"Hogwarts has a chaplain?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, of course, Harry. His name is Cameron MacBoon. Have you not noticed the chapel in the south courtyard?"

"Er, well, I saw the building but I never knew what it was. I've never heard anyone mention it or say they were going to services."

"Yes, most of the students have become quite secular, as has British society in general. Too few people are concerned with the notions of how to become exemplary people. They want power or money or leisure, but not enlightenment or serenity."

"I think I do. I think I'd better."

"Yes, Harry. Your experiences have pushed you into facing much of evil and pain. To handle these experiences without becoming dull or venal requires spiritual and moral study. Remus will be bringing him to meet you Wednesday afternoon. He and Chaplain MacBoon are friends, and he wanted to see you again as well, so he quickly volunteered to make the introductions."

"Wonderful. I love seeing Professor Lupin as well. It sounds as though you already knew I would be needing help."

"Few people can find their way where you'll be going without someone guiding them on the first part of the journey."

"It sounds a bit scary."

"I understand that, Harry, although it shouldn't. I would liken a young person to a seed. Most never allow themselves to sprout and grow and blossom, and yet we would consider doing so the fulfillment of the seed's reason for existence."

"Hmm, I think I see. The plant looks nothing like the seed itself, and people are afraid of letting go of what they are so as to become what they could be."

"Yes, very good. It is that fear of losing oneself in change that keeps most from ever growing. Do you think you're up for it?"

"As I see it, the choice is 'grow or die'."

"Yes, but not because of the threat which impends. For all of us, we either grow emotionally and spiritually or we begin to wither from within. You are just being pressed rather more insistently than most."

"I think I'd rather face a more immediate challenge, like a basilisk or Death Eaters: then I have the spur of adrenaline and the goal right in front of me."

"Yes, it is far easier to overcome a monster or a mountain than one's baser self."

"There is no other way?"

"Alas, Harry, your choice is to surrender and become just like Voldemort, in which case it barely matters which of you would win out, or to become his opposite."

Harry shuddered at the thought of becoming like Voldemort. "I've felt the pleasure he feels in others' pain and destruction. It sickens me even though the feeling of pleasure grasps at me. I'll do whatever it takes to go the opposite way."

"I had confidence that you would, Harry. Well, now that that is settled, what has your scar been telling you?"

"The pain has been growing since we were in Egypt. He knows we gained access and he is fuming over it. He probes my mind on occasion, but he is cautious, because he knows that I feel it and become more aware of his thoughts at the same time. He's plotting, but I don't know any details, other than that nothing dire has been done yet."

Dumbledore looked grim. "Harry, just how open are your minds to each other?"

"I'm … I'm not sure."

"Do you have any idea?"

"The connection is growing, but neither of us pushes the limits. He finds most of my thoughts repulsive and useless, and while I recognize the helpfulness of knowing his plans, much of the rest is contempt, fear and loathing."

Dumbledore nodded. "Excellent report, Harry. Keep me informed, but keep working on occlumency as well – you need to learn to protect yourself. And don't slack off on your other training just because you are concerned about the message. Before this is done, it is virtually certain you will need those skills to keep yourself alive. There are no shortcuts to victory."

"I have accepted that, Professor. Until all this is over, I know I have to prepare for anything."

Now Harry needed to prepare his aunt and uncle for having visitors from the wizarding world. Harry was always concerned about having magical people come to the house. His relatives were still none too keen on magic, though they had come to accept Harry and that Harry needed to stay each summer with them. Harry checked the calendar and reassured himself that the full moon was not near, so Professor Lupin would not be turning into a werewolf while visiting. Harry doubted that Lupin or Dumbledore would overlook a thing like that, but it didn't hurt to check. Harry knew that Lupin would do nothing very wizardly unless forced to, but he didn't know about Reverend MacBoon. Of course, there was the Statute for Secrecy, but too few wizards seemed capable of observing it, especially if they rarely interacted with the muggle world. Harry crept downstairs to the parlor, where his aunt and uncle were watching telly and talking about something nervously.

"Erm, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia. I have something to tell you."

Vernon Dursley quick pushed an envelope into the cushion beside his leg and tried to give a relaxed smile from under his walrus moustache. "Aah, yes, Harry, my boy. That's fine, and we have something to tell you. Tell you what – you go first," he said unctuously.

This was sounding suspicious, thought Harry, but he went on. "A, erm, friend of mine – he used to be friends with my parents. Umm – you met him last year, Uncle Vernon, when he and several others came to watch us box – Professor Lupin?"

Harry stressed the word 'professor' in hopes that this would make him sound more acceptable. Harry expected a reaction from Uncle Vernon, but instead, Aunt Petunia spoke up. "Ooh, Remus!"

Uncle Vernon turned and glared at her as blush rose on her cheeks. "Yes, Petunia, and just where do you know this fellow from, and on a first-name basis, too? You weren't there at the Rec. Center last year."

"Oh, well, it's just that she – his mother – used to bring HIM – Harry's father – and his friends around at times. Remus was kind of reserved and shy, but with a kind of a hint of both wildness and sadness about him, and he would quote poetry. That's all very dashing and, erm, romantic to a teenage girl, you know. And more than any of them, he treated me like a regular person even though I wasn't – like them."

Uncle Vernon looked disquieted by this, but before he could speak, Harry said, "You knew them? Did you know Sirius, too?"

"The murderer?" shouted Uncle Vernon, getting very red in the face.

Petunia put up her hands to calm Vernon down and then continued, "Yes, I did. And while he was very rude to me at first, I still cannot come to believe that he murdered anyone. Especially as it came closer to the time they left that school, when they stopped coming around much, he had turned to be a very kindly and decent sort, still mischievous, but not in a hurtful way."

"That sounds like the Sirius I knew," said Harry, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Petunia, "but I didn't want to stir anything up about old times. I liked the house being so much less tense."

"He wasn't really a murderer. We proved that at the school several years ago, but our evidence slipped away. And now it doesn't matter."

"Well, it does matter to me," said Petunia. "I didn't like thinking of him that way. I couldn't imagine any of them doing anything that evil."

"Well, actually, the real betrayer of my parents and murderer of those others was another friend of theirs, Peter Pettigrew. Do you remember him?"

Petunia searched her mind. "I think so. There was one boy they called Peter, or sometimes Worm-something. He was always such a tag-along, mousy little sort: I could see him doing all sorts of things to ingratiate himself with anyone he was with. I know I wouldn't have trusted him, but then, I wouldn't have trusted anyone with … those powers."

Harry tilted his head at her. "Really – just because they can do things you can't?"

"Yes, Harry. It's a decided and rather dramatic advantage over us … normal folk. Lots of people who have advantages - whether it's money or political power, or other ways to manipulate and take advantage of others - use them in bad ways. They even start to think they are entitled to treat those without such advantages as 'lesser people' deserving to be treated shabbily. After all, it must be 'God's will' that they have such advantages, they seem to think."

"I can't blame you for feeling that way. I've seen too much of people who think that way. I know … people with my powers who seem not to regard those without them as even human. They sneer at people like me with relatives and ancestors lacking those powers."

Uncle Vernon looked keenly at him. "Rather like the attitudes of the nobility, eh?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. What makes them so special, anyway? But back to Professor Lupin, Aunt Petunia, you didn't say anything last year when all those people came to tell you two to treat me better. Didn't you recognize him?"

"Well, it actually took a while. The years have been somewhat hard on him. And really, Harry, that was by no means a social call they were making."

"No, you're right, it was anything but. Anyway, Professor Lupin is going to have another person with him, a Reverend MacBoon."

"Reverend?" perked up Vernon. "Well, he better not be passing the plate around here. We're already attending church regularly, thank you very much, and do our part. What's he coming around for?"

"He's to help me figure out some things?"

"Is he … one of your kind?"

"You know, I didn't ask. He's the chaplain at Hog – uh, my school -, so I assumed, but maybe not."

"Well, as long as they can arrive normal and look normal and they don't want anything out of us, it'll be okay," said Uncle Vernon. "Now Harry, I've just gotten a letter from my sister, …"

"Oh, no," said Harry, "not Aunt Marge."

Petunia nodded nervously, as Uncle Vernon went on. "Yes, she's coming to visit for the month of July. Listen, Harry, we know you aren't too fond of her, but we really don't want any, erm, well, blow up like we had the last time she came during a summer."

"She really says rather awful things, you know," said Harry.

"I can't deny it, Harry," agreed Uncle Vernon, "and we're going to have to go along with those things, too."

"WHAT?"

"Listen, Harry, things have been better for you here. And you can't deny it – you've enjoyed it. But things have been better because your headmaster explained all those things about what's going on in your world to us - over a cup of the most delightful tea that he brought – but we can't go trying to explain all that to m'sister. And how else are we going to explain the change of attitude around here. So we're going to have to put on like everything's just as it was the last time she came."

All of the old resentments and frustrations with Aunt Marge were boiling up in Harry, and this was proving to be a bitter pill to swallow. Finally, he said, "Well, Reverend MacBoon is coming here to teach me about forgiveness and goodwill. I guess Marge will have to be a priority project."


	2. Reverend MacBoon

Chapter 2 - Reverend MacBoon

Remus Lupin and Reverend MacBoon arrived so promptly after lunch on Wednesday that Harry almost thought that they had been hiding in the shrubs to ring the doorbell when the meal was over. Harry put down the dishtowel from cleaning the dishes and went to answer.

"Harry!" said Lupin, giving him a bear hug.

"Professor Lupin, it's good to see you," said Harry, looking over Lupin's shoulder for some indication of their transportation. "Erm, how did you get here?"

Lupin smiled. "First, call me Remus, okay? I'm no longer your teacher and you're nearly an adult in the wizarding world. I know you still think of me as a close friend of your parents, but I'd like for us to be friends on our own terms as well, okay? Now don't fret about us not passing for muggle. We walked over from Arabella's house. We used the Floo Network to get there. Cameron can't apparate, and I can't take a living being with me – like some people can, I hear."

Harry smiled. "Oh, well, some things come easy, some don't. We all have our strengths."

"Sure, Harry," said Lupin. "Let me make introductions. Reverend Cameron MacBoon, may I introduce Harry Potter. Harry, Reverend MacBoon."

The man with Lupin was a little taller than Harry, not quite stocky but no longer slender, and appeared to be the age of Arthur and Molly Weasley, maybe a bit older. His medium blue eyes were very active and alert, but not shifty, and his chin was cleft. He had an unguarded demeanour that was neither intimidating nor timid, but radiated trust and acceptance. He spoke with a noticeable Scottish burr.

Reverend MacBoon smiled and extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Harry – wish I had met you at the chapel before."

Harry smiled. "Well, sorry about that. I've never learned a church-going habit. I'm glad to meet you, uh, should I call you Father, Reverend, um …"

"How about Cameron? If I had to use a title, it would be Reverend, as Presbyterian pastors are known. The school is in Scotland, after all, where the national church is Presbyterian. But I'd rather do without titles. I'll be sharing my experiences and education with you, but I don't want you to just accept the words because I've got the title. I'm not a professor who will give you a test at the end."

"Well, that's good, I think."

"Maybe, maybe not. As a pastor, I am a spiritual guide: my goal is to help you bring out the good and put aside the bad within you. And as I understand your quest, before too long, you must take yourself beyond any sort of instruction another person could give you, though I can continue to lend a helping hand and an outside perspective. But truly, we're not so much going to be learning _about_ things, so much as learning to do."

"Well, that's been the sorts of classes I've done the best in. But I have to admit that I find it rather scary as well – when I fly, or Apparate, or do spells, I know when I'm doing them right – something happens. How will I know when I am doing this sort of work right?"

"Your heart will tell you, Harry, you'll feel the coming of peace. Albus tells me you've got a good start in the heart department."

Harry smiled. "I know he says that, but I feel like I have so far to go."

"Good, that's the first step toward wisdom. In fact, we all have far to go to be the people we are made to be, but it is only those who recognize the need for improvement who will make improvement."

"Well, I'm almost ready to get started. I just have to finish doing the lunch dishes," said Harry, leading them past the cupboard under the stairs to the kitchen. They walked in and found Petunia having a cup of coffee.

"Petunia! Pleased to see you again. The years have been kind," said Lupin.

"Remus, it's nice to see you, too. I'm so sorry about Sirius," answered Petunia graciously.

Lupin nodded sadly, then continued. "You remember Reverend MacBoon, don't you."

Petunia extended her hand and MacBoon, rather than shaking it, kissed it, in the continental style.

Petunia giggled at having her hand kissed. "Reverend, you've barely aged since the wedding."

Harry gaped. "Which wedding – my parents?"

"Of course, Harry," said Petunia, "Do you think I'd go to any other weddings at … that school. I'm not fond of magic, but blood is stronger."

"And love stronger still," said MacBoon. "Pleased to meet you again, Miss Evans."

"Oh, it's Mrs. Dursley now," she said shyly.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure Remus told me. Good for Mr. Dursley, a loss for me."

Lupin laughed gently. "You lay it on thick there, don't you, Cameron?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Remus."

"Petunia," said Lupin, "I know you had some magical cleaning in here last summer. Do you mind if I use a bit to finish up Harry's work so we can get started on what we came for?"

"Let me just pull the blinds first," said Petunia.

Once Aunt Petunia had shut the windows tight against any prying eyes, which she knew from her own practices were likely to be about, Lupin took out his wand, said several spells, and the kitchen was left sparkling as unnaturally clean as Harry's Aunt Petunia always kept it. Harry noticed that it was far cleaner than he ever got it when he cleaned up.

"Will that do, Petunia?" asked Lupin.

"It's lovely, Remus."

"Pleased to be of service. We'll just take Harry to his room for our business then. Harry will need to be able to speak without reservation."

Harry, Lupin and Reverend MacBoon went up to Harry's room and shut the door.

"Before you two get started on other things, I want to show you something, Harry," said Lupin.

He pulled out a handheld mirror just like the one that Sirius had given Harry nearly two years earlier, and which Harry had used for a year to discuss matters with Dumbledore.

"It's part of the set that Sirius got all of us Marauders one Christmas. You have your father's, Dumbledore has Sirius's. I've only recently gotten this one – it was Peter's, but his mother gave it to me. She still believes him dead. Lacking any proof, I hadn't the heart to tell her aught. Mine, I'm afraid, was broken many years ago in one of my werewolf rages. Don't worry – Cameron already knew about that. He was the assistant chaplain when I came to Hogwarts. I can't begin to tell you how much he helped me; not so much with the disease, but with my frustration at my situation. Your mother was an angel in that regard as well. Listen carefully to him, Harry. And if you need to talk with me, just get your mirror and call."

"That's great, Profes …, ah, Remus. I know others knew my parents, but you're really the last link I have to them as regular people. Besides, you're a great guy to talk with even without that."

"Thanks, Harry. Barring business for the Order, I'll always be there for you, and not just because you're the Order's business either, right? I like you and want to be part of your life whether you fight anyone again or not. I'm going to get going now, so you and Cameron can talk. I don't want to hinder. You need to talk freely, Harry, and you can. The sanctity of your talks with a pastor in the wizarding world cannot be broken even by Veritaserum. I've seen it tried on him, back during the trials after Voldemort's first fall. The Ministry wanted to question him and he could not be made to talk. So speak freely, from the deepest recesses of your soul."

"Okay, Remus. I'll do my best. It may not be easy at first – my upbringing hasn't been that conducive to being totally open," replied Harry.

"I know you'll do your best. Besides, Cameron has a way of making a person feel comfortable enough to open up – no, not magic, though you might call it a certain charm, it's really his complete trustworthiness."

"Now you're laying it on thick, Remus," interrupted Cameron.

"Don't listen to that, Harry. He has Dumbledore's trust and mine, and in no time, you'll understand."

Okay, Remus. Y'know, I noticed that you said Voldemort's _first _fall – are you so certain that there's going to be a second?"

"I like our chances. We have an excellent Minister of Magic, the wizarding world is alert and reasonably unified, and the goblins are talking alliance and would stand behind you under any circumstances. Whatever your role is, and Dumbledore only lets us know that you're at the center of things, now that our champion's ready to do whatever it takes, I think we're in good shape. I just hope I make it through to see it."

Harry laughed weakly. "Okay – no pressure, huh?"

Lupin laughed also. "Nope, no pressure – just the fate of the world."

He winked and left Harry and Reverend MacBoon to talk.

"Okay, Harry," said Cameron MacBoon, when Lupin had gone. "Let's make sure I understand the situation the same way you do. I know about the prophecy – you are supposed to have the power to 'vanquish the Dark Lord,' but neither you nor Dumbledore really know what that power is. He believes it has to do with your capacity for love. Last year you also received a message at an ancient Egyptian shrine which said 'To achieve peace, practice forgiveness and goodwill.' Dumbledore believes that this path to peace will purify your loving nature and allow this power you need to manifest itself. Is that about it?"

"Yes, sir," replied Harry.

"And do you want me to guide you on that path to peace."

"If you can, yes."

"I believe I can, but I'll have you know, it's probably the hardest task any person can set for himself. It requires a total mastery of oneself. Magic won't help you. You must cleanse your soul of all negative feelings and cultivate positive thoughts so that you can rise above all that is evil. Are you game for that?"

"If that's what it takes to help my friends, then sure."

"I can't promise that. Dumbledore thinks it will. He deals with contending with evil wizards – I help people contend with the evil within them. I believe this is good in itself, and I think you will, too, in time. But we will be working on it in steps, and at first, you will be able to work on those steps because you are seeking some other goal or because of those you have affection for. The time will come, though, when you will have to see practicing love as the goal in itself."

"This isn't something you just look up in a potion book, is it, Cameron?" asked Harry.

"Nae, Harry. But I think I can help you. Now first you have to understand that there are different types of love. The ancient Greeks had names for several different types – we have to use adjectives to describe them and tell them apart. There's _eros_ – romantic love. I'm told you have some knowledge of that?"

Harry put his head down and breathed deeply to compose himself.

"Yes, Cameron. I fell in love this past year. She broke up with me three months ago, and then she was killed at the Battle of Gringotts last month. I … still loved her."

"Yes, I knew Marietta. We corresponded last summer. I am unable to tell you about what, but I'm certain you have an idea what had her feeling so conflicted. It had to do with the magical world, of course. Her family attended church at an Anglican parish in London, but the priests there were muggles, so they wouldn't have understood."

"Well, that answers one thing I was wondering – whether you are a wizard or not," said Harry with a smile.

"Almost – I'm a squib," said Reverend MacBoon. "Will that be a problem for you, Harry?"

"Oh, no, Cameron. I learn Potions from Mrs. Figg during the summer. I'm sure you know she's a squib. She's probably the best potion-maker I've ever met – including Professor Snape. Uh, don't tell him I said that, okay?"

Cameron laughed. "No, of course not: I wouldn't want to spoil the excellent relationship Remus told me you have with him. But can I tell cousin Arabella you said so?"

"She's your cousin? Well, of course you can tell her – I think I've told her something like that already," answered Harry.

"She's more like a fourth cousin twice removed, but squibs tend to gravitate together. We feel less isolated that way, and can share stories about our cats and kneazles."

"Remus only mentioned that you couldn't apparate."

"Courteous, isn't he? Too many wizards measure a person by the amount of magic someone can do. There's little shame in such reckoning in being unable to apparate, but lacking _any_ magical powers? – tut, tut, tut, that's just awful. I'm not embarrassed of it, though; it's just the way God made me. And he gave me plenty of other talents. Most importantly, being a squib is a gift in itself, in that it helps me keep my humility, so that I may better serve my fellow man. Let's move on. The next type of love is _philos_, sometimes called brotherly love, but it's broader than what it sounds. It's the love toward all those you associate with – kin, friends, fellow team members, whatever."

"Okay, I know that one, too."

"Indeed you do, Harry. You've done feats for those you love that only Albus can rival in recent time. Sometimes people mistake it by equating it to a 'one hand washes the other' kind of implied deal. It may begin that way, but as so many courageous people have shown, it often extends to actions of bravery or sacrifice that go well beyond any hope of reward. You didn't go into the Chamber of Secrets or retrieve Cedric Diggory's body or go to help the goblins last month because you expected reward, but because of your love for your fellow beings. Wonderful, amazing things have been accomplished on the basis of _philos_. But we must go much further."

"Further - how much further can love go?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"_Agape'_," answered Cameron, "Universal love, also known as Christian love, because it is what is the heart and soul of Christianity – the very pinnacle and the very foundation of Christian practice."

"Really?" said Harry. "I guess I should have known my aunts and uncle were not quite right on that."

"I'm shocked, shocked I tell you, to learn that someone who claims to be a Christian hasn't got a clue as to what it's actually about," Cameron said sardonically. "So what did they tell you?"

"That Christianity is about giving out rules about being respectable, so that wicked boys like me would know how rotten they are and why they would be going to hell and why proper people like them would be going to heaven. But to be fair, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia haven't said anything like that to me since they've accepted that I'm a wizard."

Cameron shook his head. "I cannot begin to tell you how many people claim to be Christians but know nothing of what it is all about. It creates great resentment and disdain against Christians and Christianity."

"Cameron, is the point for me to become a Christian?"

"No, and yes."

Harry sighed. "Well, that clears it up."

"Glad to be of service," Cameron said with a smile and a wink. "The problem, Harry, is that 'becoming a Christian' means different things to different people. To most people, it means 'professing Christianity' as one's faith, or 'accepting Jesus as Lord, God's manifestation in human form.' That is not what I am trying to lead you to; if you pick that up as we go, that's fine, but I'm here to teach you something else. Let me tell you a story.

"There was a man with a farm and one of the fields needed hoeing. In the morning, he told his two sons to take hoes and go out to the field to take care of it. One of them said, 'No way, I want to spend the day with my friends,' and he left the house. The other said, 'Sure, Dad, right away.' But once the first son got a short distance down the road, he thought better of what he was doing, came back, picked up a hoe, went to the field and got to work. The second son, however, went out of the house, picked up a hoe as if he was going to the field, but instead went to pass time with his friends. Now which one was doing what his father asked?"

"The one who did the work."

"Of course. And it's the same with being a Christian. Many people call themselves Christian but never act with Christian love; others act with Christian love, though for whatever reason they do not profess Christianity. I'm trying to teach you to think and act as a Christian is called to. Even Jesus's students sometimes got that idea wrong: Jesus had to correct them when they tried to stop people who were healing the sick in Jesus's name. The disciples thought those people were misusing his name, but Jesus was only concerned that they were doing good things for other people. That is what counts, Harry. Saying you are a Christian without trying to practice agape' means little and is often even destructive, because calling oneself Christian but failing to even to try to act like one discredits Christianity to those who are looking for direction. Of course, it should be kept in mind that no Christian, no person, is perfect, but we Christians are called upon to do our best to guide all our actions by love. On the other hand, doing the work of a Christian – that is, practicing love for all beings – that is what being a Christian in spirit is about, whether you adopt that name or not, and I think that what matters more is the life you lead, not whether you profess a particular religion."

"So it doesn't matter if someone joins a church?"

"Aah, now don't get mistake me: I want people to become Christians and I'm ready to baptize anyone who asks. But it's not because I want them on the 'team.' I believe becoming a Christian is good, because I believe Jesus' life and the teachings of Christianity are the best way to learn what is truly moral: acting with love. By the way, Jesus told that story about the farmer in his ministry: I don't claim credit."

"Ah, so you have a Holy Ghostwriter," said Harry with a smirk.

Cameron groaned, and then laughed lightly. "There are people who would be very incensed at your making a pun like that, calling it sacrilege, but I know it was innocent fun. Jesus and his followers were criticized for having fun and joking around in their free time, so I'll go with their example and enjoy life. Moving on: as his ministry progressed Jesus was more and more concerned about the people who professed to be Godly people, but acted very different, using adherence to relatively irrelevant and often arcane rules as justification, when the truly important law – 'love your neighbor as yourself' – was being ignored."

"Not getting the big picture."

"Exactly. Jesus stressed this again in another passage where he said that the time would come after his time on Earth when he would be in heaven judging between those who would be saved and those not. What he said was that the good would be judged by this: 'I was hungry and you fed me, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you showed hospitality, I was without clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you cared for me, and in prison and you visited me.' Similarly the bad people failed to do these things. Then those in each group would say, 'when did we ever see you in these conditions?' His reply was that when you do these things for any person, particularly the most needy, you are doing those things for Him."

"I'm afraid I'm a little lost on that."

"It's saying that God's will for us is that we practice love for all people, not just those who can help us or who can demand it, but those who need the help. When he says that doing this for the least among us is doing it for Him, you can view it on a couple of levels. It can be seen as a symbolic statement: he loves all beings, so when you do things for those he loves, you are doing it for him, just as no good parent fails to appreciate a kindness shown to his child. I prefer a more literal view of it, though, that God is actually in all of us and in all that exists, so that whatever we do toward another being is done to God."

"Would I understand this better if I read the Bible?"

"Yes and no."

"Stop that!"

"Sorry, Harry. Let me elucidate. The Bible is a very complex book and very easy to misunderstand. It has often been said that the devil himself can quote scripture to suit his purposes and, just so, we often hear of hateful things being justified by reference to scriptures. The Bible is divided into books, and those are divided into chapters and those into verses. The various books have their own histories and were not assembled into the current format until centuries after the parts were committed to parchment. The first portion, well over half, is known to Christians as the Old Testament. The Jews recognize the same books, though not the same translations, as the Torah and the Talmud. This part is the story of the Hebrew people, whose descendants are today known as Jews, after the main surviving tribe of Hebrews, and their relationship with God. It tells of forming a pact, that is, a testament or contract, with God, that they would obey the rules he gave them and in return he would protect them. Time and again they fell away from these rules and God allowed their enemies to hurt them until they turned back to God and he restored his protection. There were some basic broad rules, which we know as the Ten Commandments, and then there were a whole bunch of more detailed rules about what they were required to do in all sorts of situations. Then in interpreting these rules for new situations, additional rules were devised which became ever more arcane. Of course, no one could keep all these rules perfectly, so there were ways to seek God's forgiveness and to make oneself right with God. This primarily involved blood sacrifices."

"Okay, now blood sacrifices are sort of a way of making an apology to God, right?"

"That's the idea, Harry."

"I don't know a lot about Judaism, but I don't think they do that."

"Well, not animal sacrifice - that was given up long ago. Not too much after Jesus' time on earth. Most Jews still practice circumcision, however, which is often regarded as a blood sacrifice given as a sign of affirmation of the covenant of the Torah. Modern thinking rarely addresses the 'blood sacrifice' origins of the practice, but that's how it was formerly understood. Now, Jesus was a Jew born about two thousand years ago when Judea – the reestablished land of the remaining tribe of the Hebrews – was a province of the Roman Empire. It is the Christian belief that he was God's son, that is, one in being with God, but adopting fully human form. He studied the Jewish laws and the commentary on them. He may also have studied Greek philosophy and other ideas in the land. He saw that the goal of all of the law could be summed up as an attempt to express a single idea – universal love. The very core of his message was every person could be resolved with God if they sincerely sought to practice forgiveness and goodwill toward all men, and in so doing they would know peace."

Harry cocked his head. "That's the message from the shrine – but that was placed more than a thousand years before the time of Jesus. So he didn't invent the concept?

"Nae, and the Greeks had the word _agape'_ and the idea of it long before the time of Jesus. Many other cultures did too. But he lived it. He actually practiced it. And he accepted being the final blood sacrifice that we all might be saved."

"He WAS a blood sacrifice – what happened to him?" asked Harry.

"You don't even know that? You know the Christian symbol is the cross, right? Jesus was falsely accused, convicted, then whipped and nailed with large spikes through his hands and feet to a cross, which was raised up so that he hung on it in the desert sun of Judea until he died."

"That's awful!" said Harry with revulsion. "What did he do to deserve that?"

"He said that the only religious observance that really counts is living your life by love."

"Imagine what they would have done if he had said something hateful."

"That they would have accepted, so long as he did not call for rebellion. The challenge of his message upset the established order of things."

"That sounds like an awful way to die."

"It was meant to be, so that people would not dare to run afoul of the power of Rome," said Cameron quietly. "And do you know what he did as he was hanging there on the cross, bleeding, aching, burning in the sun, surrounded by people who mocked him, spat on him, and even stole his clothes?"

"I would have summoned my wand and hexed them all into comas! I can tell already, though, that that's not it, so, okay, what did he do?"

"He prayed, 'Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.'"

"But … they were awful to him. They hurt him. They were killing him. And he forgave them?"

"Yes, Harry," said Cameron. "That is the way with Christian love – we learn forgiveness and goodwill toward everyone – unbounded either by the number of times a person has harmed us or others or what kind of harm they have done."

"That's what I have to learn?"

"Yes, Harry."

"To forgive everyone and wish them good?"

"Not just to think it – but to practice it."

"Everyone?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Bellatrix Lestrange and the rest of the Death Eaters and even Voldemort?"

"Yes, Harry."

"That's a tall order – really immense!"

"Yes, Harry."

"So I just say 'I forgive you all – go ahead and have a good time killing people,'" ranted Harry.

"No, that's not going to happen on several grounds. First, we're going to practice with little steps. Second, you aren't going to be allowed to just 'live and let live' with Voldemort and his kind. He wants you dead."

"Well, didn't Jesus let the people back then kill him?"

"Yes, Harry, but he allowed himself to be sacrificed, so that we would not have to. Love does not require allowing people to hurt others or ourselves. We don't return hurt for hurt, but we need not make ourselves victims. I have prayed for you every single day since your parents were killed: I'm not here to teach you to die, but to teach you to live. Understand?"

"I think so. So then I still will be fighting?"

"Yes, but not to destroy, just to stop him."

"That's what Dumbledore did two years ago – Voldemort was surprised that Dumbledore was not fighting to kill him, but all he did was to stop him from killing me."

"Yes, precisely, Dumbledore desires no one's destruction. He is a more saintly man than he will admit to."

"But he makes mistakes – he has with me," said Harry sharply, remembering the pain of just over a year earlier after Sirius had died.

"Yes, he's human. Perfection is not for us."

"But," said Harry, "the prophecy says I am the one with a chance to vanquish the Dark Lord. How can I do that if I do not try to destroy Voldemort?"

"I don't know, Harry. I don't think there's much chance you'll make a Christian out of him. I wish I knew what you are to do. I can hope that at some point our studies will lead to some fruition, but I have been sent to teach you to forgive and to love universally. The magic, like so many other things, is out of my hands. Let's get back to what I am here to teach you about. You have a grudge against Dumbledore."

"I don't! I trust him, I look up to him, I …" said Harry.

"Love him?"

Harry nodded.

"Ah, yes, you say so, Harry, and I don't doubt that you do, but when I described him as saintly, you got angry because he had made mistakes which wound up hurting you, right?" said Cameron. "That emotional response shows you still need to forgive him for what he did. It's not that he tried to hurt you – you know that's not so. But his mistakes did hurt you, and you need to forgive him – not for his sake, but for your peace of mind. The knowledge of the brain that he was doing his best has not yet made it to your heart. Can you discuss it with him?"

Harry looked down. "I think so."

"Good. Hand me your mirror, please."

Harry handed Reverend MacBoon the communicating mirror.

"Albus? Are you available?"

Dumbledore's face appeared in the mirror. "Aah, Cameron, good to see you. Are things going well? It appears you haven't been evicted yet."

Cameron laughed. "No, but I thought he might when I told him the basic idea here. He thinks it's a lot to ask."

"Of course it is," said Professor Dumbledore, "but he has already risen to challenges no other wizard could handle. I believe he can handle this as well. Do you need something?"

"As we were discussing matters, we determined that there is something he needs to discuss with you. I'll hand the mirror to him now."

Reverend MacBoon handed the mirror to Harry, who looked at him pleadingly, and said to him rather than the mirror, "What do I say?"

"Talk to him. Tell him about your resentment."

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Harry."

"I'm still angry about the things we discussed after Sirius was killed. I didn't know what to guard against because you failed to tell me." Harry's voice rose. "You didn't think I could handle knowing the prophecy, and you didn't even tell me about the sort of tricks I should watch out for."

Then Harry started yelling, "You trusted Snape – EXCUSE ME, Professor Snape! – to teach me to protect my mind even though you knew he hated me for the things my father did! It was wrong and you weren't supposed to make mistakes and it cost Sirius his life."

Harry quieted down and added, "And I still feel responsible too, because I behaved foolishly as well."

Harry hung his head and began crying quietly.

"Thank you, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore.

"What?" said Harry, between sniffs.

"Thank you. It is a kindness for you to take another step to clear the air. I said then that you should be angry with me, but after I told you, you kept the anger inside. I want us to be able to rely on each other completely. I am afraid that only that will allow us to meet the challenges ahead. But in that reliance, we each must recognize that neither is perfect. I had treated you as too fragile. You had treated me as too wise. Learning that I was not perfect, and harboring that resentment, caused you to not fully trust me this past year."

"But, I did everything you asked of me."

"Yes, you did, Harry, and splendidly. But when you went further and took it upon yourself to relieve the attack on Gringotts, you did not think to notify me. I had to hear it from Fred Weasley instead. Or was it George? I would have been able to get useful information to you, such as my suspicions of Shacklebolt when he did not answer the general call for aurors."

Harry thought. "As dire as things were then, I could have contacted you through a member of the Order. Even though Professor Weasley was occupied, Hagrid or someone else could have gotten a message to you. I thought you would stop me and I wanted to help the goblins. I believed you would again treat me as too weak. I'm sorry."

"I understand, Harry. I forgive you," said Professor Dumbledore.

"And I forgive you for misjudging me. There were mistakes enough to go around. How can I make it up to you?"

"There's nothing to make up. Just continue with all your work on your studies and skills, and coaching the DA, and working with Reverend MacBoon; also can we not have these lapses of communication?"

"I guess we'd better not."

"Oh, one more thing, Harry."

"Yes, Professor."

"When this whole business is over, and we don't have to resort to these mirrors for mutual safety, can we spend some time together?"

"That would be splendid, Professor. I hope there'll be such an opportunity."

"Indeed. Is your scar okay?

"Nothing to tell."

"Excellent. Good-bye, Harry – for now."

"Good-bye, Professor."

Harry put down the mirror and smiled inwardly.

"It feels good to clear the soul of resentment, doesn't it, Harry?" said Reverend MacBoon.

"Yes, Cameron, it does."

"Now it sounds like you have never done much Bible reading."

"Uh, no – should I take it up?" asked Harry.

"Well, yes, but let me guide you," said Cameron, "You see, as I was saying before, the Bible is a large and complex book, a collection of writings really, with lots of history, songs, tribal legends, sermons, parables and other writings. There are plenty of people who try to tell you that every single word is literally true, but there are parts that aren't even internally consistent, such as genealogies and the parallel histories of the books known as Chronicles and Kings. You'd also have to believe that the value of pi – the ratio of the circumference and the diameter of a circle - is exactly 3, though it is easily demonstrated to be significantly greater than that. And don't get me started on the whole creationism thing. Idolatry, even of the Bible, is wrong – only God is worthy of worship, and his essential nature is love."

Cameron paused a few seconds and then went on. "And as I said before, parts can be taken out of context. Every few years, you hear about some person or group who call themselves Christian who take some statement of the Bible out of context and does something horrible, like playing with poisonous snakes or performing a circumcision on their sons."

Harry shifted anxiously in his chair and pressed his legs together on hearing this. Cameron smiled sympathetically at Harry's discomfort.

"If they read the whole Bible in context they would understand that this is the sign of the Old Covenant, which Jesus fulfilled and replaced with the New Covenant – at least for Christians. The New Testament says many places very specifically that Christians are not to circumcise for religious reasons. There are an awful lot of Christians who like the certainty and stricture of the rules under the Old Testament better than the forgiveness and challenge of living by love of the New Testament.

"But don't get me wrong – the Bible is an invaluable resource if you understand what the parts of it are all about. I'll tell you more about the Bible and the history that goes with it gradually over our visits: too much all at once can be bewildering. We are going to focus on teaching you universal love, _Agape_. It is sometimes also translated as 'charity,' but it doesn't mean handouts to the needy. It means having a loving, forgiving nature, which wishes and does only good for others – goodwill. I read a famous passage about love at your parents' wedding. Would you like to hear it?

"At my parents' wedding? Really? Of course," said Harry enthusiastically.

"It goes like this:

'If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal;

If I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing;

If I give all I own to the poor, and sacrifice my body on an altar, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient.

Love is kind.

Love does not envy.

Love does not boast: it is not proud.

Love is not rude or self-seeking.

Love is not easily angered.

Love keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in truth.

Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Where there are prophecies, they will cease.

Where there are tongues, they will be stilled.

Where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

But Love never fails.'"

Harry listened attentively, and then thought in silence.

Finally he spoke, "Wow, that's like a poem. Do you believe all that?"

"Yes, Harry, I do, and I try to live by it. I'm not perfect, but I try to become better each day at living my life by love. And I hope you meant it when you said you wanted to work toward that yourself."

"I have to be all of those things - patient, kind, not easily provoked, humble, hopeful, all that stuff?" asked Harry.

Cameron nodded.

"It's a tall order. Sometimes I'm like that, but sometimes I'm not."

"Of course, Harry. You've barely started to address moral choices. There is within every human a higher nature and a baser nature. We can embrace the good or the evil. Sometimes we are strong enough and wise enough to be the best, most loving people we can be, and sometimes we are weak and deluded. There is ever a war in our souls over what type of person we shall be. Many people never try to fight it. And as I have said, none are perfect. But there is good news about this: when we fail to be the person we know we ought to be, we can seek God's forgiveness, and if we are sincere in regretting our mistakes and seeking to set them right and go on with a pure heart, then we are as new, as innocent as a newborn baby, though hopefully wiser."

"And peace will come?"

"And peace will come," Cameron reassured. "Okay, now I've told you a bit about love. Let's take another step on forgiveness. Let's clear the air with someone you like – how about Remus?"

"He's a great guy. What of him?"

"I want you to explore in your own heart whether there are any things you may have done to him for which you need forgiveness, or any resentments you may bear against him that you need to forgive."

"Well, okay, but if we're going to do this with everyone I know, it's going to take a while," said Harry.

"No, we won't do this for everyone, just for many of your more significant relationships. I want you to get in the habit of sorting out your reactions in various situations. Where you harbor resentment or anger, you will learn to forgive. Where you can, you'll learn to seek forgiveness – it's a part of forgiving yourself."

"What's this about forgiving myself?" asked Harry.

"Have you never done anything wrong, or been angry with yourself whether you were wrong or not?" asked Reverend MacBoon.

Harry thought sadly of the times he had acted rashly or foolishly, had made stupid mistakes, had gotten angry when he knew he shouldn't. "Yeah, I reckon it'd be hard to count all the times."

Cameron smiled benignly. "We are learning about universal love. That is love for everyone – being charitable toward all. That includes you, Harry. You deserve that love as well, but you may not realize it yet. Albus tells me you have visions of loved ones dying."

"Yes, sometimes just hurt, more often already dead," Harry said grimly.

"Do you still have those visions?"

"Most of the time – it's like a few frames inserted into a muggle movie, but it's long enough for me to know what it's about."

"Albus said that he's never heard you saying that you saw yourself in any of the visions," said Cameron

"I vaguely remember him mentioning that to Hermione Granger when we were in Egypt. She agreed with him. They're right. I haven't told them of any, because I haven't seen myself dead. I just figured that it was because if I were to die, that it would be all over for me anyway," said Harry.

"Maybe, but I want you to consider that maybe it's because you don't really count yourself among those you love, that you don't consider yourself worthy of love. After all, during your entire upbringing, you were told how bad and worthless you were. You were forced to live in the cupboard under the stair. I took a look there as we passed by – it'd be fun for a child to play in, but it's an awful place to live," said Cameron.

"Even Dobby, the house elf, or rather, he's a goblin, but, well, it's a long story. Anyway, even he said it was too nasty to live in," said Harry.

"Then you suddenly were thrust into the wonderful but quite surreal magical world, correct?"

"Yeah - it's often seemed like a dream, more often lately a nightmare," said Harry.

"And you have often taken great risks and otherwise behaved rashly, as if your own life did not matter?" continued Reverend MacBoon.

Harry agreed reluctantly. "Yes. Yes, I have."

"These are signs of someone who may not actually love himself, who was filled with the negative ideas he grew up with so that even when circumstances change, he cannot accept that he is worthy of love. You will learn to forgive others, as well as yourself, so that you can learn to love everyone, including yourself," said Cameron.

"And my reward will be to see visions of my own death, eh?" said Harry with a smirk.

Cameron laughed. "Smart aleck!" Then he continued more seriously. "Listen, it seems as though at some point you will have to face Voldemort, and he will try to kill you, and I want there to be no doubt in your mind that this would be a bad thing."

"I don't WANT to die!" said Harry strongly.

"I'm sure you don't, not in your conscious thoughts, but your actions suggest someone who is not so sure he deserves to live. We all deserve to live and to live well. You are worthy of life and love. We're going to assess all your actions and relationships, as well as we can, and in the end, I think you will understand and come to love all beings, including yourself. Now to Remus – you first met him when he was your professor, when Sirius was thought to be an escaped mass murderer and the betrayer of your parents, right?"

"Yeah, he started almost four years ago, and had to leave at the end of my third year when it came out that he's a werewolf. Parents weren't too happy with that, and he was angry with himself for failing to take his potion the last full moon he was there."

"How about you – were you angry about that?"

"I guess some – he's a great teacher. I've really only had 2 good Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Well, three if you count Barty Crouch, Jr., when he posed as Professor Moody – he was very effective as a teacher, but he was a Death Eater. No wonder he knew Dark Arts so well! I would have rather that Remus had stayed on: if he had taken his potion, he would still be teaching."

"That's fair enough. You know he didn't do it to hurt you or other students or himself, don't you?"

"Yeah, I reckon. But it was a big disappointment."

"Of course. Anything else?"

Harry thought hard, composed his thoughts, and then said, "He knew Sirius was out there, and the close relationship he and Sirius and my Dad had, and he didn't fill me in on it. I've been pretty bad about asking questions about my parents and my past, but I had no way of even knowing there was such a relationship to ask about. Even when he told me he knew my parents, he seemed to hold back a lot."

"Maybe that's because of the pain it caused him to think how his friends died, and that one was believed to have betrayed them?" suggested Cameron.

"Yeah, I hadn't thought about it that way. He actually knew my Mum and Dad; I barely have any memories of them at all. And he lost not only them, but also his friends Sirius and Peter in the same incident. It must have been awful for him. So is it wrong of me to have been upset about what he didn't tell me?"

"No, of course not. We will have situations that upset us, but we can still have sympathy and love for the person involved. And now that you understand it, you can let it go. You can see that he was doing the best he could, given his involvement and relationships."

Harry thought. "Yeah. I do see. I was hurt by the information not being given, but he didn't do anything bad. He was hurting inside, too. I feel like such an idiot for carrying that in me so long."

"Don't be so hard on yourself: nobody's ever shown you how to get it out, or even to recognize it. Now let's consider if you've done things which hurt Remus."

Harry thought back over the past four years, particularly the year Lupin was a teacher. After several minutes, he put his hand over his mouth and got a sad, pained look in his eyes. Cameron reached over and put a hand on Harry's shoulder and began to rub it.

"Go ahead and tell me about it."

"I was really a brat toward him that year. I lied about things, and took advantage of his affection for my father and me. I let him get me out of scrapes that I caused by being so darned stubborn about doing whatever I wanted. He finally lost patience with me, and gave me a scolding I'll never forget - not loud or anything, but it cut me to my core, because it was spot on."

"Good, Harry. Are you grateful to him for doing that?"

"Now that I think of it – yeah. I've made other mistakes since then, but not like that."

"Let's talk to Remus about it."

They called Lupin on the communicating mirror and talked through both the things Harry had been angry about and the things Harry regretted. They talked through the details, and how they had each felt, and why they did as they did. In the end, Harry asked Lupin for forgiveness.

Remus smiled.

"Well, if you want to hear the words, Harry, I'll say them. You're forgiven. In my heart, I had forgiven you long ago. You were thirteen, feeling isolated and put-upon, and you didn't know what was going on. I wouldn't hold that against you. I'm pleased and proud of all that you say you learned from me – both in and out of classes."

"I'm also sorry about falling for the trick that led to Sirius' death."

"Harry, it hurts to have lost Sirius, but I don't blame you at all. You didn't understand the nature of your visions."

"Remus, I …" Harry trailed off, barely mumbling.

"It's okay, Harry. We aren't used to saying such things openly. I love you, too. There are circumstances where you can't well say it, but this isn't one of them."

"Okay, Remus, I love you."

"If that does it, then I've got to go. See you, Harry, Cameron."

"Bye," answered Harry.

Cameron smiled at him, "Now how do you feel?"

"It hurts, and I feel good – and stronger, healthy."

"Excellent – that's just what we're looking for. That's a good start. I'll bet you feel both sore and good after a vigorous workout as well. It's the same idea – we're working on the moral muscle now. Let's see. It's Wednesday. How about if we meet again Friday afternoon - at Arabella's house? I'll be staying there this summer."

"At Mrs. Figg's? Sure. I like it there, now that she doesn't feel like she has to make it miserable."

"Good. We'll learn more about universal love, then. We'll also work more on understanding the things that make people hurt others and on learning to forgive and care about them without restraint. Till then, think about the things we've discussed and your experiences clearing the air with Albus and Remus. That was but a tiny bite at the apple you'll need to chew, okay?"

"I'll be there, ready to work."


	3. Orders to Kill

Chapter 3 – Orders to Kill

That evening during Harry's sparring match with Dudley, he suddenly felt an enormous pain in his scar. He held up his hands to stop Dudley in mid-swing, but Dudley couldn't get stopped in time. Harry was knocked over and he lay on the canvas clutching his scar.

"Dudders, what happened?" called Vernon. "You didn't hit him that hard!"

"I don't know, Dad. He closed his eyes and tried to wave me off, but I could only pull the punch. Harry, what's the matter?"

By now Harry had rolled so that he was sitting up and his relatives had squatted next to him. Harry continued to squint and hold his scar.

"It's not you, Dudley. My scar – he's having someone killed. It's someone in Brighton, at a retirement home. Can anyone see us?"

They looked around. "Looks like the manager is doing a walk-through, Harry," said Uncle Vernon.

"Okay, I have to talk to Dumbledore. I'll be right back." Harry grabbed his wands from his gym bag in his corner and apparated to his room. He grabbed the communicating mirror and called for Professor Dumbledore. Getting no response he called for Lupin.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Lupin. "You sound upset."

"My scar is hurting. Voldemort is excited about ordering someone killed. It's someone at Seaside Village Retirement Community in Brighton.. The name is Lancombe. I think it's somebody who used to be at the orphanage where Tom Riddle was raised."

"Do you know how many are going or when it's going to happen?"

"I think just one, but I don't know when. He's just given the order a few minutes ago."

"Alright, Harry, we'll see if we can't head them off."

"Make sure Mr. Weasley knows my apparation to get to the mirror was an emergency, okay?"

"Sure, Harry, I don't think there would be a problem with it being done for a cause like this, but I'll get a message to him. As acting Minister of Magic, he'll be able to scotch any inquiry without a hearing."

Remus left and Harry apparated back to the Rec. Center locker room, then came out to the boxing ring to meet with his Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley.

"What in blazes was all that about?" asked Uncle Vernon.

"It's a little hard to explain, but I'll try. When Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, I got this scar, and a link was formed between the two of us. When he came back to Britain, I could sense through pains in the scar when he was nearby, and particularly when he was excited. In the past couple of years, since he has gotten a body, it has gotten stronger. Two years ago he learned how to give me visions by focusing intensely on what he wanted me to see. Last year, I learned to tell the sense of his thoughts even when he wasn't trying to share them, but I couldn't tell any details. Now I'm starting to pick up details when he is doing something that excites him, like ordering the killing of someone."

Vernon and Dudley looked at him like he was explaining quantum physics. Dudley finally said "So you're saying you can read minds?"

"Well, that's legilemency. I usually have to be able to look into a person's eyes for that. That's one of the skills he transferred to me when he tried to kill me. But that usually gives only moods, snippets of memories, attitudes, that sort of thing, not detailed thoughts and facts. The link through the scar is starting to give details. In fact, that's how I became good at legilemency – the knowledge and techniques just came from his mind into mine. I try not to use it, although I have to admit I can't control it very well yet. The only techniques I've gotten from him are use of it, not shutting it down. That's why I have not been looking you in the eyes much lately, so that I wouldn't accidentally use it on any of you Dursleys."

"It's nice to hear that you're making that effort, Potter, but it still makes me want to wear very dark glasses around you," said Vernon. "So, again, what just happened? You said he had ordered that some one be killed."

"Yes, and I called friends of mine to try to send out people to keep that person from being killed."

"Was it – one of your kind?"

"The person I called was Professor Lupin, but if you mean the person who was being targeted, then no, she was not magical."

Uncle Vernon grunted a sigh and pursued his lips. "Well, we're about out of our hour here. Let's get cleaned up and head home."

"Are you okay with … what I've just told you?" asked Harry.

"Okay with it? OKAY with it?" repeated Vernon, "Of course, I'm not 'okay' with it! It scares me silly! The whole … you know … scares me silly! Some people have powers that they can use to hurt others, and we've got to just hope they either ignore us or that some other people with those powers will stick their necks out to protect us! I like a life that's reasonably safe and secure and regular. I want to live in my nice, safe suburban home, with my nice, safe suburban family, and make and sell drills – that's a peachy life by me! Knowing about all this stuff makes me feel like I've been playing football in a minefield, just lucky so far to miss the mines. And unless I've misunderstood things, you're basically a walking bull's-eye for the nastiest blokes your sort has. No, I'm not okay with it!"

Vernon was glaring at Harry as he spoke, and the intensity of the rant forced Harry's legilemency to assess his emotions, and Harry saw that this was the real, honest terror that his uncle had been feeling of magic ever since Harry came to the Dursley home. But Harry sensed something else – pride, and affection.

"But," continued Vernon, after letting that settle with both himself and Harry, "we're not going to behave cowardly and turn you out. I wasn't keen on taking you in, and I've been tempted before to send you off. Maybe I've grown a bit m'self, but as I see it, we're in it too far now, and we're not going to abandon you. You're with us and you'll stay with us until your responsibilities take you elsewhere."

Harry sensed that this, too, was genuine, particularly Uncle Vernon's realization that this determination and loyalty was a newly found quality. "Thanks, Uncle Vernon. That means a lot to me."

"Let's go get showered, Harry," said Dudley, clapping him on the back. "And can you tell me how you disappeared like you did a while ago. That was really cool!"

That night Harry couldn't get the thoughts of the ordered killing in Brighton off his mind. He tried to focus on other things – his loved ones, the talk with Reverend MacBoon and then with Remus, even his lessons – but the thought of the killing kept intruding. He tried to get to sleep and was fitful. When he finally dropped off he started to dream.

He saw himself addressing someone, a witch or wizard on bent knee, bowing before him. Harry knew it was a sorcerer, hooded and cloaked as the Death Eaters in the cemetery had been. Harry felt exultation at having found this old lady in Brighton; he heard himself giving detailed instructions of horrible things to be done to her. The instructions which Harry heard involved cruelty beyond words, and Harry felt great delight in the giving of them. Then Harry heard the final orders: "And when the spirit is broken, then the life should be ended."

"I will please you, my Lord," said the hooded figure, whose voice could not be identified, not even so much as whether it was a man or a woman. But the pleasure in accepting these orders was evident in the tone: whether it was in being trusted to perform such a service or the opportunity to treat a person so brutally was not clear.

Harry next envisioned the victim, but the image kept shifting. Initially it was of a small, thin, frail old woman. She was not strong and unbent, like Professor McGonagall, nor even slowed but still vigorous like Mrs. Figg, but truly a feeble old lady. Then the image shifted and changed: the years reversed and the old woman became much younger, about Tonks' age, and she reminded Harry of his own first grade teacher at the local muggle school. As Harry was reminded of that teacher and how kind and sweet and gentle she was with him, seeing he was protected from the bullies of the school, the dream began to fade.

Suddenly Harry was disturbed in his sleep by a terrible scream. He was aware it was in his dream, but he couldn't turn it off. Whenever it seemed to fade, it would be renewed again with fresh urgency, filled with terror and hatred. Harry felt frozen as he listened. Then he realized he felt a sense of pleasure coming over him on hearing these screams, a horrible satisfaction like a warm bath after being too long in the snow or …worse: part of Harry's mind shuddered as he realized the sense was similar to that he felt when he dreamed of being with a girl. Harry felt like he was watching this hideous emotion occurring, while at the same time knowing that the sense was occurring within him.

Harry wanted to wake from the dream, to end the horror of it. He had had enough dreams of grisly and awful things happening that he could endure that. But the sense of pleasure and satisfaction in the terror of the victim made him ill. And yet part of his mind registered being thrilled.

After several very long minutes, Harry was able to redirect his mind to drive out the evil. He searched for a strong thought of healthy pleasures. He forced himself to think of apparating and of flying brooms and playing quidditch. Not strong enough. He started thinking about Hogwarts, looking for a strong enough thought. He thought of his first Christmas there: it helped, but it wasn't intense enough. He thought of protecting the Philosopher's Stone at the end of his first year, but he had mostly felt terror from that, so the horrid vision of the torture and pleasure returned. He remembered the rescue of Sirius, but the bitterness of Sirius's death tainted the memory. Similarly, his memories of his brief romance with Marietta Edgecombe a few months earlier was tainted both by her dumping him and even more so be her death at the battle at Gringotts.

Finally he thought of seeing Ginny's apparently lifeless body awakening in the Chamber of Secrets and his relief and joy at that moment; finally, with that, the hideous vision of the old woman and the satisfaction at her dread and pain began to recede from his mind. Harry directed his mind to examine all the good that had come from Ginny's awakening – her parents' relief and joy when he and Ron returned with her, the good times that had included Ginny, her coming with him to the Department of Mysteries, her work in the DA, playing quidditch with her. All these thoughts filled him with warmth and kept the horror at bay; the thoughts allowed Harry to resume sleep in peace.

The next morning after his run, Harry had returned to his room when he heard his voice being called from his desk drawer. He opened it up and took out the communicating mirror, by which Dumbledore was calling him.

"Professor," said Harry, "Good to see you, but what happened in Brighton?"

"We were too late, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore sadly. "Remus had to assemble an adequate team to safely go there, and they were just in time to see Voldemort's agent leaving - not a Death Eater, but a witch who is in his service. She had just sent up the Dark Mark. Then she disapparated."

"So Ms. Lancombe was killed?"

"Yes. And Harry - apparently she was tortured before she was killed. She was under the Silencio Charm and there were signs of the use of Cruciatus on her. She was 89 years old."

"That's ... That's just sick! That's very old for a muggle, you know. She was probably very weak. Why would anyone either torture or kill her? She can't have been a threat in a retirement home."

"The only offense she committed was being an assistant at the orphanage where Tom Riddle was raised. I suspect he has decided to eliminate anyone who might recall his origins. I don't know why he would care now."

"I may know, Professor. I remember at the Department of Mysteries last year, I told Bellatrix LeStrange that he was half-blood. She went into an insane rage at my saying so. Perhaps it's come out that I said so, and he has decided to remove anyone who could confirm the muggle part of his origins."

"That may well be it, Harry. It could also simply be the continued expression of his hatred for his muggle origins. I am also concerned though about your means of learning about it."

"He was feeling great pleasure over ordering it – that always increases the information I get. At least this didn't turn out to be a hoax like when he tricked me into coming to the Department of Mysteries. I had thought about going to Brighton myself, and didn't out of concern it might be a trap."

"Excellent thinking and very healthy caution, Harry. It would be like Voldemort to play on your desire to protect others. My concern, though, is that you may be getting too much information. Two years ago, it was rather vague unless he was focused very intently. Last year it became more detailed, but it was still a matter of overall impressions. Now it is quite detailed, down to specific names and places. I'm worried that the separation between the two minds may be breaking down."

"You mean, our minds could join, just merge together? How could that be?"

"We have known since at least your first year at Hogwarts that the use of the Killing Curse involved creating some sort of connection between you two. I believe that this occurs whenever the Killing Curse is used. Of course, it is not an easy thing to test. There aren't many volunteers to participate, and you are the only known survivor. Nonetheless I believe that in some sense the souls connect and the killer extracts the life and soul of the victim."

"Like a vampire?"

"Like a combination of vampire and dementor's kiss. If I am right, then the failed curse has not expired, but has locked the two of you together, bound in a struggle over whose will will overpower the other's – his will to kill versus your will to live," said Dumbledore grimly.

Then Harry quoted the Prophecy, " - And neither shall live while the other survives." Dumbledore nodded and Harry continued, "So neither of us fully owns his own soul until - what?"

"Possibly not until one of you dies, but we'll be looking for other ways to break the connection. Remember we have very little to go on. It's unlikely we will have any chance to find out. We'll just have to do everything we can to make sure that it's not your death that breaks it."

"Well, that's my goal."

"Every day you get stronger is a day that the odds get better. Harry, I am concerned about this killing. This is the first use of the Dark Mark since Voldemort returned. Its significance will not be lost on the magical world. There are bound to be others. You may be able to give us enough notice to save some lives."

"You know I'll do what I can. What should I do?"

"Pay attention to what your scar is telling you. Keep the mirror with you at all times. Either Remus or I will be available whenever you need to call us and will be able to send out a team in a few minutes. We may be able to catch some of Voldemort's servants, even. But there is a downside."

"He may realize that I'm monitoring his mind and play tricks on me again," said Harry grimly.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, that, and I'm afraid that the more the two of you try to invade each others' minds the more the barrier between the two will be eroded. You must work on protecting your mind from him. You _are_ still practicing your occlumency, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course, Professor, although it hasn't seemed to have done any good. However, as we discussed at Gringotts a few weeks ago, I know I can bar him from my mind with strong thoughts of those I love. I think I may have used that last night even."

"What? He was in your mind?"

"Possibly." Then Harry told Dumbledore everything he recalled about the dream, and how focusing on Ginny drove the evil thoughts from his mind.

"I think you're right – that does not sound like an ordinary dream. And it can't be remote viewing because Mrs. Lancombe did not scream – the Silencio had been used on her so she could be tortured without interruption. This had to have been from Voldemort's mind."

"That's what occurred to me during my run, but what I would like to know is if I'm picking up his fantasies or is he projecting such foul emotions into my mind?"

"Well, be keenly attuned to any invasions of your mind, Harry. It would not be worth saving any of those lives if we lose the one person who can stop Voldemort."

"But if we let him pick off people one by one, we'll have no one left to carry on the fight."

"True, Harry, true. Most of our active allies are either at Hogwarts or other secure locations, but that leaves vulnerable a lot of others who cannot so hide. So while no war is fought without risks, let's not be foolhardy."

"No, Professor, I've learned that lesson."

"Good, Harry. But let me be very clear on this - you are not to go on any rescue missions. If there is a killing afoot, let Remus or I know to send out fighters. We need you to fight the war within your mind, not out there."

"Yes, Professor, but what if …"

"No 'buts,' Harry, we can't afford to lose you."


	4. Cats

Chapter 4 - Cats

"Potter! Potter!"

That evening, Harry was just finishing pruning the hedge when he heard his uncle calling for him. Harry went in and found his aunt and uncle in the parlor watching telly. Dudley arrived from the back yard.

"Potter – you know anything about that?" said his uncle, pointing at the telly, "Looks like your kind's work."

Sure enough, the news report was showing the Dark Mark over Brighton from the night before: it was being reported as a kind of fireworks. Harry nodded recognition and then came behind his aunt's chair to watch the report. It was noted that the sign had last been seen in connection with a mysterious series of killings which ceased fifteen years earlier. However the news report did not connect it with any deaths. There are too many deaths daily in a city the size of Brighton for the muggle authorities to make any connections and it was simply not that noteworthy that an 89-year-old woman in a retirement home passed on, unless you knew, as Harry did, what brought about her death.

"I'd rather think of my kind as being those who oppose such things, rather than those who cause them, but I know whom you mean. Yes, it's the sign Voldemort and his followers use to announce their killings. They killed an old lady at a retirement home last night."

"What for?" asked Petunia, "Was she a … a …witch?"

"No. I asked Professor Dumbledore why - we don't know for sure. She knew that Voldemort had a non-magical father, so we think that's why she was killed. But we're not sure why it was considered so important. But we're very sure it's not going to be an isolated event."

"That's what you left the Rec. Center about yesterday. Are you going to know of other killings before they happen?" asked Vernon.

"Yeah, if they are ordered by Voldemort. Some of his followers will kill on their own, but most won't do a thing they aren't told to."

"What should we do? Can we help?" asked his uncle.

Harry was amazed. Not only had his uncle accepted Harry and his magical activities, now he was offering to assist in the war against Voldemort.

"Providing a safe home for me is the number one thing. But also, if I get scar pains or otherwise need to get away when there are people around who don't know about magic – and I'm thinking particularly of Aunt Marge – then please help make excuses that will allow me to."

Aunt Petunia suggested, "How about if we send you to your room as a 'punishment?' You can use a code word, like 'wireless,' to let us know you need to get away, and we'll make up some awful thing you've done and say you're being sent to your room for it."

"Excellent," said Harry.

"Aah, and if Marge objects that you need to be lectured first, we'll say that the detention counselor at St. Brutus's insists on the punishments being kept according to schedule," said Vernon.

"You've done this sort of thing before," laughed Harry.

"Sort of. With business entertaining we set up all sorts of code words to make sure everything goes right to close the deal," said Vernon, then adding with an arched eyebrow. "That is, if there isn't any mishap with the desserts."

"I swear that wasn't me!"

"We know, Potter, we know," said Vernon with a smirk.

Harry arrived at Mrs. Figg's house the next day to find Cameron, Mrs. Figg and Tonks eating lunch.

"Ah, there you are, Harry. Good to see you again," greeted Cameron.

"Oh, Harry, you're flushed. Can I get you some chilled herbal tea?" asked Arabella Figg.

"Um, is it just tea? Or a potion," Harry asked.

Tonks laughed, "I'll have to tell Moody - he'll be thrilled that you're getting more cautious." She tweaked him in the side.

"Can't imagine why I'd be paranoid, eh? How about you, Tonks? Are you just here because you like cats or are you checking up on me?" Harry asked, glaring penetratingly at her.

"Ooh, Harry Potter thinks everyone in the world is watching him - he's so important, he's so darling; he's so handsome," she teased.

"You're covering up," he said.

"Blast!" exclaimed Tonks. "I'm going to have to improve my occlumency to be around you, Potter. They let me slide on a few things like that because of being a metamorphmagus. Right then. There are very few coincidental meetings concerning you and anyone from the Order. You'd be even more suspicious if we weren't watching."

Harry smiled smugly.

Mrs. Figg handed him a glass of tea. "It's just tea, dear."

"Thanks," said Harry to Mrs. Figg, and then turning back to Tonks, added, "and thanks to you, too, Tonks."

"For what? I'm just doing my job"

"When you said I was handsome, you were saying what you thought, trying to cover what you didn't want to say by saying something irrelevant but distracting."

"Ooh, Potter! If you ever want a relationship with a girl, you'd better put that legilemency out of your mind. People don't like being read like that!"

The others laughed at her frustration as her cheeks turned bright red.

"I hear you've been doing some other mind-reading as well," said Cameron, becoming more serious. "Tonks told us about her trip out to Brighton."

"Oh, I didn't know you had gone on that, Tonks," said Harry. "But Cameron, you knew about Brighton before she told you."

"Okay, you got me – Remus told me about it after he called in aurors. Are you even capable of turning that legilemency off, Harry?" asked Cameron.

"Not really. I don't have full control yet. I haven't really trained, but picked up the techniques through Voldemort's mind. I couldn't control that either. His way has been to do it pretty much all the time. To him it's simply another sense, like hearing or sight, always on except when he's asleep. Now that I've picked up the skill, I need to learn how to close my legilemency eyes. I actually am working on learning to shut it off."

"Can't be too soon," grumbled Tonks.

"Yeah, Harry," said Cameron. "With most people, you had best keep it to yourself."

"I know. But you were trying to be too breezy about the situation, so I had to call you on it."

"And what about me?" said Tonks.

"It's just fun to rile you," Harry said laughing.

"You've had to call Dumbledore a couple more times since then about attacks," noted Cameron.

"Yeah, only one person was saved, though," said Harry sadly.

"But, Harry," said Mrs. Figg, laying a hand gently on his arm, "It's one more than would be alive if you hadn't responded."

"So what about it, Harry? We know you're getting details, but how is it affecting you?" asked Cameron.

Harry sighed. "Lots of ways. Of course my scar hurts when it happens, I'm pretty tired of that. I also am not just aware of his moods, but experience them, too, at least when they are strong. He gets a big thrill when he orders someone killed, kind of like, um ..."

"What, Harry, is it that hard to say?" coaxed Cameron.

"It's just disgusting actually! It's the same sort of feeling I get when I see a pretty girl and, erm, let my mind wander."

Tonks and Mrs. Figg both flinched and gasped in revulsion. Then Mrs. Figg comforted him. "We're reacting to his feelings about killing, not your thoughts, Harry. Those feelings about girls are normal and healthy. With all you've been through, it's a relief that you even have those normal teenage boy feelings."

"Oy, Arabella!" said Cameron with a laugh. "It's not just teens who have those feelings."

"Cameron, you're a man of the cloth!" teased Tonks.

"Yeah. So what! I've taken no vow of celibacy. Sex is a gift of God, to be exercised responsibly like any other gift He gives," explained Cameron.

"Oh, yeah," said Tonks. "I may have to show up at your chapel in the future."

"Tonks, how you talk!" said Mrs. Figg. "I thought you had your eye on Remus!"

"Oh, I could go for him alright, but he won't get involved because of the werewolf thing. Imagine a little detail like that keeping him from getting on with life."

"Erm, we're here to help Harry," said Cameron, "maybe I should take him into the parlor - to speak privately."

"Alright, alright, just stay put" said Mrs. Figg. "Tonks, why don't you help me out in the garden?" Tonks agreed and they left through the back door.

Cameron began again "Okay, Harry, let's talk some more about forgiveness. Tell me some people you have resentments against."

"Well, of course, there's Voldemort and all his followers, Draco Malfoy, some of the other Slytherins, uh Professor Snape, Delores Umbridge, Aunt Marge."

Cameron interrupted, "That's the aunt you inflated 4 years ago, isn't it?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and she's coming to visit next week and staying for a month!"

"Excellent!" exclaimed Cameron.

"You have a strange sense of the good things in life."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I don't revel in your discomfort, Harry. But you disliked her enough to do some major uncontrolled wandless magic, and you obviously still have very strong feelings against her. You're going to learn to love her."

Harry glared at Reverend MacBoon, and snarled, "_Love_ her? I'd love to see her roasting on a spit! Or better yet, just to never see her again."

Cameron smiled. "Wonderful! This is just what you need to learn to deal with. You misunderstand what I am asking of you. Universal love does not require you to like her. I am also not asking you to feel affection for her. And most assuredly I am not asking you to feel amorous toward her."

Harry flinched and grimaced at this last suggestion, and Reverend MacBoon smiled.

"It's nice when you can like or feel affection toward someone. But you can love someone in the way you are learning no matter how unlovable they are. You can consciously choose to fill your mind toward that person with the attributes of Christian love - forgiveness, patience, charity, sympathy. First you have to work on empathy - that is, learning how it is that they came to be the person they are, doing the things they are, feeling and thinking the way they do. From that comes sympathy, and then other attributes. And you can do so without liking that person at all."

"Really?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Harry, when you were learning to conjure a patronus, were you feeling happy?"

"Heck, no! I was hearing my parents pleading with Voldemort as he was about to kill them. I don't reckon you can be any farther from happy than listening to that!"

"Exactly, Harry, and yet you learned to force your mind to think the happiest of thoughts even when it was filled with the most awful of thoughts. And you can learn to think the most loving of thoughts about the most unloveable of people while they are doing the most hateful of things. It's an act of will, choosing an attitude of love, and forcing yourself to think only lovingly toward that person."

"And that will make that person better?"

"I can't say what it will do for anyone else. It will make you better, Harry. When you choose to love others, you lose your anger, impatience, resentment, even hatred for that person."

"Wow. In my occlumency training I have been learning to push the negative feelings away. Now I'm going to learn to eliminate them?"

"That's the goal. For right now, let's work on some deeper resentments than you had with Remus. Let's start with Arabella."

"Mrs. Figg? But I like her – a little spacey but she's great," said Harry.

"Yeah, she's one of my favorite kin, but she hasn't always been great toward you, has she?"

"No, she hasn't." Harry thought back to before he went to Hogwarts. "It used to be excruciating when she would babysit me before I learned I'm a wizard. There was just nothing to do. The house smelled ten times worse than it does now. I don't think she even changed the cats' litter during that whole time. And she didn't air out the kitchen from making potions - I didn't know that was the source of the smells, of course, I just knew it stunk like old cabbage and rotten eggs."

"It must have been awful, Harry."

"And those photobooks of her cats," groaned Harry.

"What's wrong with the cats?" said Cameron. Then shaking his head he added, "Oh, yeah. Forgive me. Squibs just have a special affinity for cats and kneazles. No one can explain it, and sometimes we forget that others don't feel the same. You've probably bored the pants off someone with talk about quidditch or something, too. (Harry thought to times Hermione had endured he and Ron with their quidditch strategy sessions). Well, anyway, let's call Arabella in and you two can talk about the situation.

Reverend MacBoon called Mrs. Figg in from the garden. He waved at Tonks not to come in.

"Hey, it's hot out here," she complained.

Cameron grabbed one of his cousin's enormous gardening hats and tossed it like a Frisbee to Tonks, "Here, wear this. It really will help. Act like you're gardening while you skulk. We won't be too awfully long."

Harry and Mrs. Figg sat at the kitchen table to talk about those miserable visits years ago. He was surprised at how much resentment came welling up. More than once, Cameron had to put a hand on Harry's arm to stop him and get him to take a minute to calm down.

"Harry," said Mrs. Figg sadly and sympathetically. "Like I told you two years ago, I had to make the visits miserable enough that you'd tell the muggles you hated coming here. That kept them sending you. While you were here I was able to feed you better then they had, and get some strengthening potions into you. I am truly sorry if I overdid it. Would it help you to know that I cried after each visit, knowing how hard I had made it on you?"

Harry sniffed and said, "Well, actually, that does help some. But what was it with the pictures of the cats?"

"I thought you liked that part!" said Mrs. Figg shocked. Then looking at Cameron, she asked, "Who wouldn't want to look at pictures of cats?"

Cameron shrugged.

"But … the cats were right here!" exclaimed Harry, "Well, except the ones that had passed on, but who cares? You see one cat you've seen them all!"

"Every cat has its own personality. I am shocked to think of a person not wanting to see pictures of cats. You look at pictures of your friends, don't you?"

"But I'd only show the pictures to someone else if they knew the person too, or had a reason to look at them. And even then it'd be just a few. You have cat mealtime and cat playtime and cat weddings and cat births and cat funerals and cat birthdays and cat toga parties and cat costume parties and .. cats making kittens: I got more sex ed. here than I did at the Dursleys!"

"Well, that's something good then," Mrs. Figg said quietly hurt.

"Arabella," said Cameron soothingly. "We forget that others don't have our affection for cats."

She looked at Harry. "You don't like cats?"

"I like 'em okay, I guess. You know, pet them awhile, play some, make sure they're fed and watered and safe. But then I'd let them be."

"I really did overdo it, then, didn't I? I really thought the cats were the part that made it okay for you."

"Other than the litterbox smell, I was pretty much okay with the cats themselves."

"Did the litterboxes smell? I'm afraid I've been around cats and potions for so long I don't notice much but the strongest of smells. Why didn't you say something?"

Harry hung his head. "All I knew back then was to shut up and accept whatever happened. I mean I was still living in the cupboard under the stairs and doing all the yardwork around the house. I was told to make myself invisible and silent more times than I can count. I reckoned you'd just lock me in someplace dank and dark, like the Dursleys used to."

"Oh, dear, dear, dear," said Mrs. Figg. "I had no idea what a fright this place was for you. It's a wonder you even talked to me, or haven't come round to hex me."

"I … I wouldn't do that! Even before I knew you were a squib, I wouldn't have wanted to do that. What's the point in hurting someone, just because they did things long ago?"

"Good, Harry," said Reverend MacBoon. "Now apply that to Voldemort and his followers."

"But they weren't just annoying! They've killed and tortured. They killed MY parents. They deserve to … to …"

Cameron quoted Harry quietly, "'What's the point in hurting someone, just because they did things long ago?' You're right that they did awful things and they need to be stopped from doing other awful things. They are much worse people than Arabella."

"Ooh," said Arabella sarcastically. "You'll make me blush with such extravagant flattery."

Cameron winked at her, then turned back to Harry. "You see, Harry, it's only a matter of degree. With Arabella, you could put a stop to the miserable things she did to you by no longer visiting. And now that you can visit her without being so miserable, you've actually become fond of her. I'm not saying that you need to, or even should, become fond of the Death Eaters. But you can forgive them, from the depth of your heart, and choose to desire for them the best that might be."

"What, just give them everything they want?"

"They want to hurt others – those others are just as deserving of love, so it is right to stop those who would hurt them. Besides, think of it this way - did Arabella give you everything you ever reached for? Knives, or medicines, or other dangerous things? No, she loved you, even if you didn't realize it. She kept you from harm, gave you things that were appropriate for you, and kept you from harming yourself. The course that the Death Eaters are on is harming themselves by eroding their souls. If they do all they want to do, they will be destroyed in doing so – if not outwardly, inwardly. For some, perhaps all of them, there is hope for the restoration of their decency and their spirits. But they must be stopped before they will listen and learn. It is an odd irony that in being the protector of the rest of us, you have the opportunity to be the great benefactor to the Death Eaters."

"Really?"

"Yes, Harry. If I die right now, my conscience is clear and I am at peace. Use your legilemency and see if it's not so. I've done the best I can and I have forgiveness for my mistakes. But they are tortured and diseased from within, miserable wretched beings. Their healing starts when they can no longer use the misery of others that they cause to distract from their own misery within."

"You believe that," observed Harry, looking intently into Cameron's eyes. "Everything you said." Harry thought a few seconds "One of them tortured that old lady two nights ago – silenced her, then tortured her, and finally killed her. They didn't even need to torture her – it was just sport! And you are telling me to learn to love them. So I can help them. So they can be as serene as you or Dumbledore!"

"Harry, 'to achieve peace, practice forgiveness and goodwill.' Have you forgotten what we are learning?"

"Well, let's just say that's a lot to swallow right now."

"Absolutely! That's okay. It's not easy to accept. But look how much resentment you had against Arabella, and now you have forgiven her and you love her. We'll take more steps in that direction. I know you are out of town this weekend, so we'll meet again on Monday, same time. We'll work on forgiving and loving others, a little less terrible than Death Eaters. We'll get a start on Aunt Marge, but from what I hear, that may take more than one session. That's okay; remember, 'love is patient.'"

"'Love hopes all things and believes all things.' Gonna have to, if you think I can learn to love the Death Eaters."

Cameron smiled. "You're a very good student when you're motivated. You'll make it."


	5. Fighting Back

Chapter 5 - Fighting Back

That evening after boxing with Dudley, Harry was packing the things he would need for his weekend visit with Seamus Finnegan when his scar again began to hurt and burn. He jotted down the details he could and quickly used his mirror to tell Professor Dumbledore. This time the victim was to be in Dover. Dumbledore had promised to tell Harry what he could about the victim as soon as he could. After summoning a team of rescuers, Dumbledore came back to the mirror. Harry offered to make apologies to the Finnegans and stay at the Dursleys, but Dumbledore insisted he keep his plans.

"I want you spending time with as many people as possible. It is too easy for you to become isolated, and you need to cultivate friendships and loyalty as much as you can. Mrs. Finnegan is well-connected among the mothers of Hogwarts – her good word will calm many parents who might want to just hunker down now that the Dark Mark is appearing again."

"Yes, sir. I understand. I'm sort of an ambassador for the Order as well."

"You could say that, except of course you are not to mention the Order. But it's so much more – you don't merely represent. When we rally, we will be rallying around you. We need for as many as possible to see that, and for you to have faith in the wizarding world's loyalty as well."

"Alright, Professor. And considering how keen Mrs. Finnegan was on me a couple of years ago, I guess she's a good one to try to win over."

"You'll be able to call Professor Lupin or me whenever you need to, although I'm hoping you won't have cause."

"Me, too, but that doesn't seem to be the sense of what he's thinking."

"What else is there, Harry?"

"The desire to cause panic, to make us all suspicious of each other and isolate ourselves, to make the rest of us fall apart, so that we'll be easier to defeat."

"That's his way, of course. That's why we need to head them off as often as we can. The team I just summoned are aurors. We'll have at least ten teams of aurors on call at any moment, just in case – several in London and the others around the rest of Britain, since even among aurors only a few can Apparate the distances needed to cover the whole country."

"Good," said Harry, reassured. "For now that seems adequate. Is the Order involved as well?"

"The Order has other missions, and we're short the help of the Weasleys."

"They can't have left the Order, can they? I would've thought I would have heard," said Harry.

"No, I insisted. Arthur can do us far more good just being the sort of acting Minister of Magic we have needed all along. It was he who arranged for the aurors to respond to your warnings. I would rather he not know what the Order is doing, as his position will put him in touch with many wizards who are legilemens, and not all of them are to be trusted. He is excellent at resisting the Imperius Curse, but he has no training in occlumency. And Molly's 'assignment' is to keep Arthur safe. We've moved them from The Burrow to the place you came to two summers ago, since it is safe. Just in case, I don't want to say the name. By the way, I'll have something to tell you about that place, but I don't think now is the time. The rest of the adult Weasleys assist on special assignments, but we are keeping them clear of the day-to-day activities of the Order, for security reasons. We've moved Order headquarters to another location, similarly safe, but which doesn't have the security flaw we had before. We are also setting up a facility in a place with more space for training. You'll be brought there later this summer."

"It is so much better being included in the preparations than being shut out," said Harry.

"Yes, Harry, I understand. And appreciate that I am telling you what I can, because you need to understand that even now I cannot tell you all the activities we undertake, and the time may come when we have to keep you completely in the dark. The more your connection with Voldemort grows, the more we must keep you from knowing anything we do not want him to know. You will have to trust that we are working for the best interests of you and everyone else."

"Yes, Professor. So my assignment for now is …?"

"Keep training, keep us informed, keep working with Reverend MacBoon on universal love, and keep your visit with the Finnegans – they're waiting for you."

"Yes, Professor. Will do. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Harry."

Then Harry packed the mirror into his weekend bag, sent Hedwig to Ginny and Ron with a letter he had written earlier - instructing Hedwig to stay until Sunday evening unless someone there needed to send a letter - and apparated to the Finnegans.

Harry apparated directly to Seamus Finnegan's bedroom. Seamus was waiting for him.

"Excellent, Harry, you made it," said Seamus. "Pinpoint landing: wish I could apparate like that. Set your stuff down, we'll figure out which bed is yours later."

Harry looked around and saw 2 sets of bunk beds, one with a trundle underneath it. "Does the whole family sleep here, Seamus?" he asked.

"Oh, of course, not, Harry," replied Seamus with a wink. "Just the lads. I'm afraid some stereotypes have a grain of truth to them, and the Finnegans are a stereotypically large Irish family."

"Except for the sorcery," said Harry, grinning.

"Well, sure'n there's that, o'course," Seamus laughed.

Harry looked suspiciously at Seamus. "You're more Irish here than at Hogwarts."

"Anyone you're with tends to rub off on you," said Seamus. "Tis a good reason for keeping good company. I make a point of toning it down back at school, though, to fit in and be understood better, but when I'm back home, it's like putting on a comfortable pair of sneakers to let the accent out. It's almost like speaking a native language here and a second language at school. Let's go down and see me Dad and Mum."

Mrs. Finnegan was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Seamus made a gesture to Harry to keep quiet and they spied on her from the door for a few minutes. She wore an apron, liberally spotted with different foods, with attached oven mitts. Seamus pointed out that there was a thin pocket on the inside with the handle of a wand sticking out. Mostly she did things the muggle way, but then she peeped around the corner to the drawing room to make sure she was clear before using her wand to levitate an herb jar from a shelf she couldn't reach.

"Ahh, there you go again, Mum, trying to live with one foot in each world."

"Ooh, you startled me. Now, Seamus, you know being mostly around muggles, I only use the magic as needed. Harry, lad, come in and let me see you. Kind of scrawny for English – sure you don't have some Irish wiriness in you?"

"I really don't know where the different parts of my family come from, Mrs. Finnegan. Thank you for inviting me to visit."

"Well, right, then, he's polite. There's a good start. You seem awfully clean for the Floo Network – how'd you get here?"

"He apparated, Mum. He's a whiz at it."

"Ah, so you were already here in Belfast, then?"

"Oh, no, Maam," said Harry. "I just guided off of Seamus's wand – I wasn't even sure what part of Ireland I would be coming to."

"Well, I guess strictly speaking, we're only on the island, not really a part of Ireland, but let's not go stirring up that pot with the other menfolk around here. It's a sore subject, sure."

"Yes, Maam," replied Harry.

"So where did you apparate from then, Harry" asked Mrs. Finnegan.

"My uncle and aunt's house in Surrey," said Harry, like it was as simple as picking up a newspaper.

Mrs. Finnegan jolted and caught herself on a kitchen chair. "Across half the width of England and the Irish Channel, to boot?"

"I guess that's about right, yes, Maam."

"Just amazing. I've never gone more than ten or so miles at a time without splinching. And let me tell you, you don't need to be splinched but a few times before you take all the care you need to not do it again. Our daughter Fiona is the best of us at it - though Seamus appears capable of passing her up in time if he'll work at it - and she wouldn't cross open water larger than a river like that."

"May I ask how many Finnegans there are?"

Seamus spoke up. "I have three brothers – well, I had four – the oldest was killed in The Troubles – that's what the fighting over Northern Ireland was called – when I was very young - and I have three sisters."

"Wow," said Harry, jealously. "I would have been thrilled to have had just one sister or brother."

"There's plenty of times I've felt just that way meself, Harry."

"Seamus!" scolded his mother. "You know you love them all and you'd be heart-broken to lose a one of them."

"You're right, Mum, I was just joking a bit," said Seamus, sheepishly, then turned back to Harry. "It's just that until I went to Hogwarts, I had very little I could call my own, and even so, me magical gear is hand-me-down, except me wand, of course. Only my second oldest brother, Brian, and Fiona, my oldest sister, are sorcerers. They had graduated Hogwarts before you and I got there."

"Hm, you and I are called half-bloods, so would your non-magical siblings be muggles or squibs?"

Mrs. Finnegans eyes blazed as she snapped, "They'd BE children of God, entrusted to this family's love and care! And worth no less nor more for whatever talents they may or may not have!"

Harry felt ashamed. "Oh, of course, Maam. I'm very sorry. I was just curious – I guess I've just heard all the terms so much that I get used to classifying people myself. There are plenty of people both magical and not I value very highly It really doesn't matter so long as a person is decent inside."

"You're forgiven, Harry. I suppose a mother in a mixed house tends to get a bit touchy about the subject."

"There is one thing I'm curious about, and maybe you know. There are some things that wizards can see that muggles can't, like Hogwarts or dementors. I know that squibs can see those things. How about your non-magical children?"

"They all see them, but so does Danny, me husband, and he's born and raised muggle."

"Really, how's that?" asked Harry.

"You see, Harry, it's not a matter of some special summat in you. It's your eyes knowing how to see it. If a muggle walks up to Hogwarts alone, he doesn't expect a castle there, and sees only the ruin. But if he approaches with a wizard, and the wizard walks up the steps, he knows there's something there, and his eyes learn to see it. Because all my family has seen me and the others doing magic, they know how to see it and so they do. They can't call the Knight Bus, because they can't use a wand, but they've all seen it."

"They liked to split a side laughin' when they did, eh. Mum?" laughed Seamus.

"That they did, son, and liked to split a side for another reason when they rode it to Hogwarts. Now why don't you two run on out to the parlor and meet Mr. Finnegan while I get this stew and bread ready for the table."

The boys walked through the door to where Seamus's father was sitting in an easy chair and reading.

"There you are, Dad. Let me introduce Harry Potter. Harry, this is m'Dad."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," said Harry with a smile.

Mr. Finnegan stood up and grabbed Harry's hand and pumped it energetically. "Pleased to meet a practitioner of the sweet science."

Harry's face registered his confusion at the term.

"That'd be Dad's way of saying boxing. I told him about our sparring with Malfoy and his boys last year."

Mr. Finnegan beamed. "And a beautiful event it sounded to be, using skill and toughness to whoop opponents much bigger than all of yeh."

"Now Dad, Malfoy wasn't but a tad bigger'n me."

"Ah, but yeh met your challenge and yeh won, lad. Mebbe yeh should've stuck with the ring instead of going for the wand."

"Dad, you know there'd be no chance of that."

"I suppose not. So, Harry, how'd yeh get started on the fights?"

"Oh, well, sir, the headmaster recommended I practice a dueling-type sport, and since my cousin had taken up boxing, that was my best option for the summers."

"Your cousin, eh? Golden Gloves, mebbe? What's his name?"

"Uh, well, Dudley Dursley."

"I know him, ranked third now in the Surrey Golden Gloves heavyweight division – great fists, powerful punch, no glass jaw," said Mr. Finnegan approvingly, and then with some regret, "but he's been slow on his feet. Getting better that way, but you can't make the big fights if you can't move well."

Harry was amazed. "That describes him. I'm impressed. You follow amateurs that closely?"

"Well, sure, Harry, and where do you think professionals come from? I like looking for the rising stars."

"Dad'd give anything to see a British heavyweight champion in his lifetime – he'd even cheer for an Englishman."

"Aah, you pug," said Mr. Finnegan, ruffling Seamus's hair. "But you're right, even an Englishman."

Suddenly Harry's scar began burning and aching again. "I've got to do something," he said quickly to Seamus and ran upstairs.

Mr. Finnegan called after him, "It's the second door on the right – jiggle the handle to get the water to stop." Then he said to Seamus, "What'd he do, ride a broom? That'd do it to me."

"Erm, no, Dad. I'd better go check on him."

Seamus overheard Harry giving the details of another attack to Remus Lupin. Before he left, he said, "Say hi to Seamus for me."

"Was that Professor Lupin, Harry?"

"Erm, yeah, Seamus. He says hi."

"I heard. What's up?"

Harry sighed. "Well, I guess I can tell you. You've seen on the news that the Dark Mark killings have started up again."

"Sure; I'd never seen it before but me Mum knew all about it."

"Right, and you know how my scar hurts and tells me some things that are on Voldemort's mind?"

"Like all those times you've waked up screaming in the dorm, Harry?" asked Seamus.

"Yeah, I guess I've been a difficult roommate," said Harry.

"It's a bit disturbing, but it's better than that Hufflepuff first year last year who threw up in bed every night through Easter. Even the elves couldn't make that smell totally go away."

"Well, now it's hurting more often because Voldemort is ordering killings, and the scar is telling me about the attacks. I report them and aurors go try to stop them. I was late tonight because I was reporting to Dumbledore."

"Wow," said Seamus. "So the war has really started and you're like a spy."

"More like a scout, I guess, but yeah, that's about it."

"AND YOU"LL BE KEEPING OUT OF IT SEAMUS FINNEGAN," yelled his mother, who had walked up quietly after seeing the boys run upstairs. "I'll not have you getting involved in any fighting that doesn't have a referee."

"Mum," moaned Seamus.

"Don't you 'Mum' me, Seamus. I've lost one son to war. I won't lose another," she said, peering imperiously at him. Then she turned and stepped smartly back down the stairs to the kitchen.

Seamus looked apologetically at Harry.

Harry just sighed. "I hope she won't, too."

As dinnertime approached, two of Seamus's brothers and one of his sisters came home. Katherine, his middle sister, reported to her mother that she had run into her brother Mike at Uni and he said that he wouldn't be coming home that night.

"With his girlfriend again?" she asked with a sigh, as Katherine nodded with a grin. "Well, at least he's not fighting."

Before Harry went to bed, his scar began hurting again. This time though, the message he received was of frustration. He called Remus on the mirror.

"Remus," he said hopefully. "Good news?"

"Your scar has already told you?" he asked.

"Well, I can feel the frustration anyway."

"We were able to stop them both. The targets were a wizard and a witch this time. The aurors made it look like just a chance interception at that. Dumbledore wants to call as little attention to your role as possible. They caught one of them, not a Death Eater, but still somebody taking Voldemort's orders. Of course, he claimed to be under the Imperius Curse. He had some of the signs, so we couldn't be sure. Someone who used to be on that side told us they would give each other cover by putting empty Imperius curses on each other. This let Arthur be one step ahead of them; he had contracted with several trustworthy legilemens to be available for just this purpose: saw right through that lie."

"Oh, so with legilemency you can tell genuine actions from Imperius-controlled actions?" asked Harry.

"Well, if it's done close enough to a particular act, as I understand it, the legilemens can tell whether the act was done freely or not, something like that."

"Hey, Potter," intruded Tonks. "You're the mind-reader, why don't you tell us how it's done!"

"Still a little bitter about getting caught out, Tonks?" teased Harry. "And what are you doing there at this hour, hmm?"

Tonks blushed. "I, uh, just brought Remus his potion."

"Oh, please, Tonks, for one thing, it's nearly a new moon – he'll be safe for another two weeks. Besides, I can still see right through you."

"Darn! I thought maybe you had to see me in person to do that! You know, you're getting to be a right pain, Potter."

"Legilemency isn't the only way to see through you, Tonks," said Harry.

"Oh, yeah, see if you can guess what I'm thinking right now!" she said, glaring into the mirror.

Harry peered. "Either I'm lucky to be on this end of the mirror, or Remus is lucky to be on that end!"

Tonks gasped. Remus, smiled and nodded and said, "Aah, uh-huh."

"Stop that, Potter!" shouted Tonks, reddening.

Remus laughed. "I'd better be going before this mirror gets broken too, Harry. I'll keep it handy, though, should anything turn up."

Harry said goodbye and tucked the mirror away, proud of helping to save two lives.


	6. Close to the Heart

Chapter 6 Close to the Heart

Harry and Seamus were able to do exercises and practice wand motions with Harry's drumsticks, but the close conditions of the Finnegan home and Belfast were no place for a couple of wizards to practice magical sparring. Besides, they would have to be supervised, and Mrs. Finnegan was not willing to have the boys even in a mock battle, so after they had done enough practice, Seamus showed Harry around the neighborhood. On the way back to the house for lunch, Harry's scar began to ache again, and they had to run to the house to use the mirror away from muggle eyes.

This time there were many locations: it seemed that Voldemort had realized that his teams were being intercepted and decided to make attacks in bunches that would strain Ministry resources. Harry couldn't get all the details, such as names of the targeted people, but had most of the cities and streets. Remus suggested he carry parchment and a quill at all times to jot down details. Harry laughed and said that a notepad and pencil would be less conspicuous amongst muggles.

"You'd know better than I, Harry," replied Lupin.

When Harry put the mirror away, he turned and saw Seamus staring bug-eyed.

"Seamus, what's wrong?" asked Harry.

"That last street you gave, Harry…"

"Yeah, uh, Shivelleigh, in Ulster, what about it?" asked Harry.

"That's this street, where we live!" said Seamus.

"No, we're in Northern Ireland."

"Harry, Ulster's another name for Northern Ireland," replied Seamus.

"Merlin's beard! I never paid much attention to muggle politics. But there are a lot of different cities in Northern Ireland. There must be other streets with the same name."

"Well, maybe, but I've never heard of any. It's an odd one, even among Irish names. And I sure can't relax thinking there's a wizard hit squad headed here!"

"No. No, that'd be foolish. Either of us would be attractive targets if there were a random meeting." Harry closed his eyes to remember the feeling his scar had given him about that address. "But we're not the target – that's aimed at a woman, but all I can say is that it's someone younger than Voldemort. We've got to tell your Mum."

Seamus pursed his lips and shifted a bit on his feet.

"Seamus, what's wrong, we've got to tell your Mum – don't we? Aren't she and Fiona the only witches on the street?"

Seamus nodded reluctantly. "Of course, we have to tell her, Harry. She could be the target, or me sisters. Even if not, I'd hate to lose any of me neighbors, especially if I could do something about it. It's just that she's already so dead-set against involvement in the war – having it on her doorstep may just make her even more set against us getting involved."

Seamus composed himself as he and Harry came down the stairs to talk to Seamus's mother. Seamus took a deep breath before he spoke to her. "Mum, Harry's gotten warning of another attack, like he did last night. One of the attacks is going to be here, on Shivelleigh Street, on a woman."

"Harry, are you certain?"

"Well, he's used the connection before to fool me, but these attacks have all happened as expected."

"I see. Well, there's nothing to be done then but for Seamus and I to take a look around."

"Really, Mum?" said Seamus excitedly.

"Seamus, don't get so enthusiastic. This is a dangerous situation."

"I know, Mum, it's just that we've trained so much to defend and I want to do something useful, but you've been so dead set agin' it, "

"I don't want you out there looking for fights, Seamus, but it appears this time the fight has come to us. The muggles on the street will have no chance against an attack by magic."

"Well, I'm ready," said Seamus.

"Let's go," said Harry.

"Harry," said Mrs. Finnegan, "we Finnegans need to head out – this is our neighborhood. You needn't take the chance."

Seamus laughed. "Forget it, Mum. You'll never keep Potter out of a fight by saying it's someone else's problem."

"But Harry, lad, these are our neighbors, not yours."

"Reverend MacBoon has taught me the story about the Good Samaritan," said Harry. "Do you know it?"

"Well, of course, I do, Harry, tis in the Gospel of Saint Luke, chapter 10. This is a good Catholic family that reads its Bible."

"Then you understand when I say these are my neighbors, too."

"Aah, Harry, yesterday I caught you out saying something a bit foolish and today you've returned the favor. Of course, they're your neighbors, too. All beings are."

"Besides," said Harry, "there may be dementors involved. Can you conjure a Patronus?"

"No, I'm glad to say I've never been in a position to need to learn, but you're right that we need that skill with us."

"Then we need Harry, Mum. He's been teaching us at school, but I've only gotten a silvery cloud."

"But, Harry, I promised Professor Dumbledore I would keep you safe."

"Circumstances change. I'll speak to him right now."

Harry pulled out his mirror and called Professor Dumbledore, explaining the emergency.

"Yes, Harry, you should go and go quickly, but I would ask that you all keep within sight of each other."

"Yes, sir, Professor, that makes a lot of sense. I'll report back."

"Be careful – all of you."

"Now that we know that we are going to do something, the question is what! We are in a pickle, aren't we?" said Mrs. Finnegan. "Walls mean nothing to someone who can apparate, except a place out of sight to complete your business, so we can't tell people to stay inside. We really can't guard all the homes of the street either. I'm the only witch on the street – was it a witch for sure they were targeting, Harry?"

"I can't say that at all, Mrs. Finnegan. I only know that when that's a major factor on Voldemort's – uh, sorry – He Who Must Not Be Named's mind. The first of the victims was a muggle who knew him in the muggle orphanage where he was raised, so I knew then. This time, it seems more like just a fanning out to cause panic."

"Except specific streets were named. He could have ordered his thugs to just kill someone in Ulster, or specifically Belfast, but he chose this street, and that's either because we Finnegans are here or because you are, Harry."

Harry nodded and answered, "Or both. How about we take a walk up the street to see if anything's going on?"

The others agreed.

"If you don't mind, Harry," said Mrs. Finnegan, "let's head up to the open air market at the north end of the street first. We'll cover most of the street getting there, and Katherine is picking up some pocket money working for the Giloolys at their stand."

"As good a plan as any," said Harry, "and better than most."

Dressed completely muggle, but keeping their hands on their wands, the trio headed out toward the market. They had hardly left the house when Harry noticed a pair of wizards, one of whom he recognized as having been with Dumbledore when he arrived at the Battle of Gringotts. Harry could hardly imagine that the Battle had been only about a month earlier, and he felt a sharp pang at remembering Marietta Edgecombe's death.

The auror approached Harry and pulled him away from the Finnegans. "Potter. It's not a coincidence that you're out here, is it?"

"No, we're patrolling." Harry nodded at the others and quietly said, "They live here, I was visiting. Both wizards, he was with the rest of the students at Gringotts last month – we're headed north to the market."

The auror replied, "We'll head to the south end and double back."

"Good," said Harry. "Oh, the target is a woman younger than about 65."

"Thanks," said the auror, "and Potter, keep yourself safe. The Minister'd have our heads if anything happened."

Harry smiled and headed off again with the Finnegans. They moved swiftly but cautiously, trying not to attract attention by looking too much like an armed patrol – especially in a city that's had too much of armed groups. When they got to the market, they made a circuit around the grounds, trying to look like they were shopping for something special for dinner, but checking all the shoppers and vendors, trying to discern which was not a muggle. They soon came to the Giloolys' stand, where Mrs. Finnegan greeted Mrs. Gilooly.

"Afternoon, Peg, how's business?"

"Aah, Martha, good as ever; have we got anything you need?"

"Only m'daughter. Is she about?"

"She took the wheelbarrow of trimmings out to the dumpster down the alley there," replied Mrs. Gilooly, pointing across half the market.

As if on cue, they heard a scream echo out of the alley at that moment. All heads turned, and more than a few ducked, as people who have experienced gunbattles learn to do. Harry was relieved to see no one rushed into the alley. The three of them pulled their wands immediately.

Harry grabbed Seamus by the upper arm and apparated the two of them to the alley, out of the crowd's sight. As soon as they had apparated in one portion of the alley, Harry re-apparated them to another portion of the alley. They turned to where they had first apparated in time to see a dark blue spell strike the wall. From behind a stack of boxes, a voice was heard yelling 'Stupefy' and the familiar spell came their direction. Simultaneously, even before the curse had been pronounced, Harry and Seamus shouted "Protego" and the stunner was reflected back toward its source, but the attacker had already disapparated, which they knew from the loud cracking sound.

Suddenly Harry and Seamus heard further down the alley a plaintive call of "No! Help! Please!" They turned and both gasped when they saw a dementor advancing silently but ever so menacingly on Seamus's sister, Katherine, who was retreating from box to dumpster ever further toward the end of the alley, which was blocked by a chain fence.

Harry started to conjure his Patronus, but then realized this was a perfect opportunity to push Seamus past his mental block. Rather than try to trick Seamus with some ploy, he just told Seamus to do what he had to: "Seamus," shouted Harry, "your Patronus!"

"Harry, you do it! You know I can't!"

Katherine dodged around another dumpster, yards ahead of the dementor.

"You CAN do it, Seamus!" insisted Harry. "Think you're happiest thought. Think how much you love her! Make yourself do it!"

Seamus aimed his wand and, trembling, shouted "Expecto Patronum!" A white gas emanated from the wand and interposed itself in front of the Dementor but failed to take form. The Dementor was slowed, giving Katherine a chance to dart to the next dumpster. When the mist evaporated, the dementor advanced again, as Katherine sank back into an alcove.

"Try again!" shouted Harry. "Think your happiest thought and try again."

Harry concentrated as well: if it were possible to will another person into new skills, Harry would do it for Seamus.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM" shouted Seamus and the wisp emanated again, as the dementor hovered over Katherine and grabbed her shoulders. This time the wisp formed fully into a small animal and charged at the dementor, striking it in the midsection with its paws. The dementor let go of Katherine and raised its arms to ward off the patronus, which yapped at the dementor and set it to flight down the alley. It chased the dementor and at the end of the alley it turned and gave a yap Seamus's way before continuing the pursuit.

Seamus was shaking; he glared at Harry. "You've got a harsh teaching method there, Coach," he said, using Harry's DA nickname.

"I was certain you had the ability – you needed the motivation. Saving lives is what a Patronus is for. I knew the dementor would move fairly slowly: there was still enough time for my Patronus if that last try had failed."

As they said this, Seamus and Harry ran to Katherine. Harry reached to offer a hand up, but Seamus went a few yards past her and leaned over the edge of the dumpster and vomited. He shook his head slowly and then blew his nose on his t-shirt to remove the traces that had taken that detour.

"I know it's good that I can do it now, but I still say there's got to be a gentler method of teaching it."

Mrs. Finnegan and the two aurors came running up.

"Are you alright?" she asked the three of them. "Seamus, you're as pale as if you'd heard a banshee."

"I'll be fine, Mum," said Seamus. "See to Katherine."

"I'm so c-c-cold," said Katherine, "and I f-feel sick. What was th-that?"

"Worse than a banshee - a dementor," said Harry. "We'll explain later. Seamus and I are fine, but Katherine needs chocolate and plenty of it." Harry pulled out a couple of quid he carried for emergencies. "I'll run down to the market and get some."

The auror Harry recognized grabbed his arm. "I'm not letting you go anywhere, Potter. Give the muggle money to Screvens – he'll get it."

Harry gave the other auror the money and said, "Just out of the alley to the left is a stand with candy. Get the Hershey's or the Cadbury's bars, they're real chocolate. Artificial won't do. Get as much as this will get."

"Right-o. Back in a flash."

"Did anyone see us?" asked Harry.

"Just a couple," said the auror Harry had recognized, "but I've already modified their memories. I cleared everyone else's memories of the scream as well."

"Good. You're going to need me for reports, I assume. But let's get the chocolate into her first and go back to the Finnegans' house."

"Works for me," said the auror. "I really don't like crowds – too easy to hide, too easy for bystanders to get hurt."

They helped Katherine along, as she was still shivering. As they reached the end of the alley, Screvens met them, already unwrapping the first bar, and shoving it toward Katherine.

"I c-c-can't eat that!" she cried. "The calories! The fat! The zits!"

"You can do it this once, dear," urged Mrs. Finnegan. "Harry's right, chocolate is what fixes you after a dementor."

Mrs. Finnegan broke off a chunk and shoved it right into Katherine's mouth. Katherine began sucking on it and then chewing it up. She started to stand a bit straighter and managed a weak smile.

"That … really does make it better. I'm starting to get warm."

She took the rest of the bar and started eating it like she was starving, which, Seamus whispered to Harry, she was, having been perpetually on a diet for over 6 years, since she turned 13. She had deprived herself of chocolate and all other high-calorie treats all that time, and now that she was required to eat chocolate, she went at it with gusto.

"Good, love, have another," said Mrs. Finnegan with a laugh.

Back at the house, Mrs. Finnegan helped Katherine to her room to lie down for a while. Seamus changed his shirt and rinsed his mouth thoroughly. Then Mrs. Finnegan served coffee at the kitchen table while the aurors got the details.

"Harry, I don't know how to thank you," said Mrs. Finnegan. "We couldn't have fought it off. We've never mastered the patronus. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn't been there with yours."

Harry grinned broadly. "It wasn't mine."

She looked quizzically at him, and then at Seamus, and the realization dawned on her face. "Seamus, you said you'd not been able to do a Patronus."

"I never had before, Mum," he said proudly, then adding sarcastically, "Harry decided this was a lovely day for a Patronus lesson, since I hadn't gotten the hang of it before and there was a dementor handy. He made me think of happy thoughts, and it came when I needed it."

"You just needed to get your focus," said Harry. "Now to the best of my knowledge, you're just the second Hogwarts' student to use the Patronus to save a life. That'll be something to talk about."

"I didn't get there in time to see it, Seamus, what form was it?" asked Mrs. Finnegan.

Seamus stared down into his cup and mumbled, "Oh it doesn't really matter, Mum."

"There's not a thing about you that doesn't matter to me, Seamus Finnegan, and this is something big! Now you just tell me."

"Yes, Mum. It was a scotch terrier."

Mrs. Finnegan fought to suppress her laughter, which sent Harry and the aurors into gales of laughter, as much out of release of the tension of the dementor attack as anything.

"Well," she said, "we may have to keep that from your father. He wouldn't understand a Patronus much anyway."

"Oh, go ahead and laugh, Potter," groused Seamus. "You've got your nice big stag, with the full antlers, all regal and proud, and all I get's a weenie little pooch, and a Scots one to boot."

Harry grinned. "It did the job just fine. Who knows, with practice maybe you'll get a spaniel."

The first auror added, "Or maybe a French poodle with a trimmed poofy tail."

Seamus just glared. As he did, Katherine came in from upstairs, having recovered considerably.

"I've got two brave young men to thank," she said.

She got Seamus up from his chair and hugged him and kissed his cheeks, as he tried to wriggle away, blushing. Then she pulled Harry up from his chair. She put a hand on each arm just above the elbow and looked up into his eyes, "Now, you're not m'brother – I can do better for you."

Harry startled back, but she threw her arms around Harry and kissed him on the lips, holding there for a good fifteen seconds. She let him go and stepped back and winked at him.

"Who's sporting the red cheeks now, Potter?" said Seamus, and they all had a good laugh, including Harry, who felt too good after that kiss not to.


	7. Celebration and Clouds

Chapter 7 - Celebration and Clouds

That evening, all the available kin who knew about magic gathered to celebrate Katherine's rescue and Seamus's new skill. Harry offered to go back to Surrey so as not to intrude on a family time, but they all insisted he stay, as he had been so central to the rescue.

All four of Seamus's grandparents were there. Beyond the inevitable pangs Harry felt at not having living grandparents of his own, Harry was surprised at the apparent age differences. Only Mrs. Finnegan's father was a wizard, and he was visibly much younger-looking than the others. When Harry had seen how much younger Mrs. Finnegan looked than Mr. Finnegan (she looked about 40, while he appeared to be mid-50s), he hadn't thought much of it – maybe she had married an older man, maybe she just kept her youth well, or perhaps she was skilled at makeup. But there was no mistaking the trend on comparing the grandparents. Mr. Mahoney looked only a little older than Mrs. Finnegan, but his wife, who was muggle, showed all of her age of almost 70 years, as did the elder Finnegans. The difference did not seem to have dampened Mr. Mahoney's ardor for Mrs. Mahoney, as he was every bit as affectionate toward her as the Weasleys were toward each other. Both generations of Finnegans were demonstratively affectionate as well, for that matter. Still, it seemed to Harry that the disparity called attention to Mr. Mahoney being 'different' in some fundamental way that tended to threaten the secrecy of wizards and witches; this must be a substantial consideration in muggle-wizard marriages.

Not just among the couples, the Finnegans and the Mahoneys were as affectionate and cheerful throughout the entire family as were the Weasleys. Several could play instruments and those that could play did, and the rest danced or sang. Harry would have liked to have just watched, but that was not to be. Although he knew nothing of Irish folk dance, nor any other beyond swaying to slow music, to the Finnegans and the Mahoneys Harry's lack of skill was no reason for him not to join the dance. The enthusiasm was infectious and Harry found himself forgetting everything but the dancing and music and clapping. Harry was passed among all the sisters and grandmothers and Mrs. Finnegan, all of whom seemed to take a special interest in leading the novice dancer among them through the motions.

Sometime after 10, Mr. Finnegan decided the time was ripe for some Irish whiskey. All the adults had a small glass neat and talked of the virtues of various whiskeys. Mr. Finnegan invited Seamus and Harry to join them, as they had done a man's work in saving Katherine, but Mrs. Finnegan would only let them have enough for a solid taste. Harry found it harsh and bitter and thought that it burned. He understood that people sometimes liked alcohol's effects on them, and that sometimes it ended up making them act stupidly – which perhaps they enjoyed on occasion in itself, - but he did not understand how anyone could be drinking the stuff for taste.

Then Mr. Mahoney brought out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey and likewise gave everyone a small glass. This time Harry and Seamus were allowed to have a full portion. Now this was different, thought Harry. It played on his tongue and refreshed him. It made him feel stronger and clearer, but Harry found that he felt like just that much was enough. The muggles among them however, seemed to feel that it was bland or at best sour, and they complained, jokingly of course, as this was a routine they had developed long ago, that the Ogden's had no kick like a whiskey should. Mr. Mahoney just smiled warmly, raised his glass and said, "To each his own and may long health be the fruits of our choices."

Grandmother Finnegan, who had taken a rest near the telly, then called to her husband, "Bagnold, there's those skull-things in the sky again."

All crowded around the telly and sure enough, the Dark Mark had made the news again. This time the news reader announced that it was reported in four locations around Britain. He also noted that they had corresponded with unexplained deaths in each of the areas, as had been the pattern some fifteen years earlier.

"The dark days are indeed returning," said Mrs. Finnegan. "Harry, I'm truly sorry I doubted you two years ago."

"I understand, Mrs. Finnegan," replied Harry. "When I escaped from him, I barely believed it all myself. But I'd be lying if I denied that it hurt."

"Harry, your story was so bizarre, and Fudge was saying what we wanted to believe."

Mr. Finnegan nodded sagely. "Every decent person wants to avoid war, sometimes to the point of blindness to their real threats, and too often politicians will curry favor with the voters by telling them that war can be avoided, that evil people aren't really so bad, or that they will go away."

"There's a difference," added Brian, "between practicing diplomacy to avoid a conflict, where that is possible, and practicing duplicity about a conflict which has already begun."

"At least this time," said Harry, "we're in a better position to fight the Death Eaters and the other followers. Arthur Weasley is working with Dumbledore. From the moment of his return, we were aware of Lord Vo-"

"Don't say it, Harry," pled Mrs. Finnegan weakly.

"We give him more power over us if we fear even to say the name. It's Voldemort," said Harry.

Mrs. Finnegan shuddered. "It's not like you're speaking blasphemy, but I had hoped never to hear that name in my home."

"Of course. But wishing it were not so does not make him go away. Look, we were able to save Katherine because students at the school have been training to do what it takes to survive. We are in much better shape than you were before."

"Sure, Harry, and I truly believe the good magical folk could meet all of his followers if we had the chance – but even Dumbledore says he can't seal the victory, so who's going to step up to fight - HIM."

Harry looked at her sadly, with a look that admitted that it was he who would be meeting Voldemort again someday, but that he neither looked forward to it nor knew how he would again survive it, much less win it.

"No, Harry," said Mrs. Finnegan, with tears coming to her eyes. "You're a sweet and brave lad to be sure – how can you be thinking of facing him?"

"It's best I not say how I know. It's certainly not something I ever wanted. But it must be, and I have accepted that." Then he put a hand around Seamus's shoulder and added, "But the way has been made easier and more pleasant by the many Hogwarts students who have helped me train."

"Aw, gerrof, Harry," said Seamus, grinning. "You know you've been the teacher, not the student."

"You'd be surprised, Seamus," said Harry earnestly. "I'm far sharper and faster than I would be if I didn't have all of you to work with. And working with you reminds me of the things worth fighting for."

"Well," said Mr. Mahoney, "you must be some teacher is all I can say to have taught Seamus – and others I hear – to do the Patronus Charm. Not a fifth of the wizards around can do it – Seamus is the first one in the family."

"Seamus is a good student," said Harry. "He works hard. He's ahead of where I was when I dueled Voldemort. It stood him in good stead a month ago."

Under his breath, Seamus said. "Harry, shush."

"What's this?" pressed Mrs. Finnegan.

"Oh, well, Mum, I guess I'll have to tell you," said Seamus reluctantly. "I told you about the Battle at Gringott's last month, of course, and it was in the paper, too. I may have left out that I was among the students that trapped what was left of Fudge's army."

His father and grandfathers beamed at that and congratulated each other over this news, but Mrs. Finnegan just glared.

"It's one thing to train and to spar, or for that matter to defend yourself. But you were not to be out looking for battles!" she snapped.

"But Mum, the Gringotts goblins could have been wiped out if not for getting help from Hogwarts – how could we let good folk die?"

"Well, I suppose the cause was good. I should have seen this coming when you were placed in Gryffindor, rather than being a solid hard-working Hufflepuff like the rest of the family. We'll let it pass – but don't you be searching out scrapes anymore, you hear?"

"So, son, what was it you did?" asked his father.

"Oh, well, the students who couldn't apparate that far took the Floo to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Once we all got there, Professor Weasley, Ron Weasley and Ernie McMillan had already scouted out the vicinity. They told us team leaders they needed someone to provide cover from a well-placed gargoyle they pointed out while we took positions. Before they could ask for volunteers, Marietta Edgecombe had …" he hesitated, realizing how painful this must be for Harry to hear, but Harry nodded at him to go on. He continued, "Uh, she apparated to the post and pinned down the rear of the army. We students all got into secure positions where we had cover and an escape route if need be – I was down a stairwell to the Flourish and Blotts basement with the team I train with."

"That he trains!" interrupted Harry.

"Well, I might show 'em a thing or two I learned from Harry," said Seamus with a grin. "When the remnants of the army finally tried to make a break for it from the goblins, we hit them with a truly sweet crossfire of spells. They hadn't a chance."

"Well, you stood up for what was right and you didn't back down from the fight. Nor did you take foolish risks. I'm proud of you, son," said Mr. Finnegan, and the others all murmured their agreement.

"So Harry," said Mr. Mahoney, "were you in with all the other students?"

"Oh, no, sir. I was down in the tunnels underneath Gringotts. I missed all that action. I didn't even get a chance to use a spell against a wizard."

Loudly, slowly and deliberately, Seamus scolded Harry, "You enormous git!" Then he explained to all the rest. "Harry only took out the two graphorns – eh, think of gigantic water buffalo - that had been modified into heliopaths to kill the goblins, by apparating with a house elf 7 times in less than two and a half seconds so that the two of them could send stunners converging on the graphorns from all corners of the tunnels."

The sorcerers there gasped, and the rest nodded their approval, knowing from the tone of Seamus's tale that this must be something special.

"That's good, is it" asked grandfather Finnegan.

"That's unheard of!" said Mrs. Finnegan.

"Not only that," said Seamus, "he was knocked down by a Stunner, had his leg crushed by one of the graphorns, was held hostage by a double-crossing auror, was stabbed with a knife right through the shoulder, and had his hand sliced to the bone in two places when he grabbed the blade!"

All the family gasped at this. Mrs. Finnegan shook her head and said with a weak smile, "Harry, I'll usually not tolerate a guest being abused in my house, but Seamus is right – you are an enormous git for not taking due credit."

"Well, everyone did what they could. Apparating comes readily to me. Truth be told, I get more satisfaction out of knowing that my holding her helped keep a goblin healer alive until other goblin healers could arrive to help her out. It seems there's never any shortage of ways to inflict damage, but always too few ways to help recover from it."

"Hear, hear!" said the grandmothers.

Then Mr. Finnegan spoke up, "So that's well and good. Now I've heard about this Patronus thing, but I haven't seen it. Is it something you could show us, Seamus?"

Seamus was very hesitant, but his mother encouraged him. Finally he relented. He was shaking as he prepared to do it. Harry spoke quietly to him, "Just remember the focus you had when you did it before. Great magic relies on great focus. You know you can do it: that's over half the job. Just wind yourself up and do what you know you can do."

Seamus breathed deeply and counted to three before thrusting his wand and shouting, "EXPECTO PATRONUM."

The silvery wisp shot out and formed itself into a Scotty, which wagged its tail and ran around the room before bounding into Seamus's hands, evaporating away as his hands reached it.

"That's what saved me?" marveled Katherine. "That cute little white doggy? It fought that hideous Grim Reaper that was after me?"

"That was a Patronus alright," said Mr. Mahoney," and a fine one at that. Size makes no difference, just the quality of its form, and you could clearly make out what it was."

"But Seamus," said his father, with wry bemusement, "Did it have to be a Scots dog."

"Dad," pled Seamus, "I had no control over what it was. I was as shocked as you."

"There'll be no shame, whether it's a wee dog or a caterpillar – it was well-formed and it saved Katherine's life. That's all that matters to me," said Mrs. Finnegan.

"Hear, hear," said the grandparents.

"Well, Harry," said Mr. Finnegan, "if you're the teacher, you must be able to do it too. Will you favor us?"

Harry looked to Seamus, who encouraged him to do it.

"Well, alright," said Harry, "I suppose a little practice wouldn't hurt. It's been months since I last did it. We'd best move the coffee table and push the chairs back."

They cleared enough room, and Harry pulled his wand, thrust it and said firmly but quietly "Expecto Patronum!" The jet of silver shot out and formed itself almost immediately. The form of the stag was five feet high at the shoulder. It tossed its head a few times before leaping toward the picture window, diffusing as it approached.

"That was magnificent, Harry." said Mr. Mahoney, "I could make out the individual hairs of its fur. I've never seen one so well-formed. And you didn't even have to shout."

Harry smiled shyly, "Yeah, I reckon it gets better with practice."

Seamus said proudly, "That's what nailed a NEWT in Defense for Harry, two years early!"

"I can well imagine" said his mother, "and from what I've seen of the results of his teaching, it was not at all undeserved."

"Harry," said Mr. Mahoney, "something occurs to me from seeing the Dark Mark on the telly tonight – those have to be done by a witch or wizard with a wand."

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't you see – the wizard or witch that tried to stun you two can't have disapparated far away. They still needed to be able to see whether they could send up the Dark Mark. The purpose of these attacks is as much to spread fear and panic as anything else, so the Dark Mark is the real point – they just need a killing to put some bite in that growl. I wonder why they didn't make further attack on you two."

"That's a good point, Dad," said Mrs. Finnegan. "Maybe after the boys used the shield charm, whoever it was saw he was against a couple of capable fighters."

Harry added, "Or maybe he or she had orders not to take on other wizards in battle. Their forces are still not very numerous, so they probably are just trying to make safe kills and sneak away."

"That would explain using a dementor," said Seamus, "since the only Charm that works against them doesn't kill them. Or does it, Harry?"

"No, it doesn't." Then Harry began to think aloud. "Hmm – if you can't kill or confine a dementor, how do you eliminate them from the enemy forces?"

"What do you mean, Harry?" asked Seamus.

"Well, if you're facing a mixed force of sorcerers and dementors, you can't necessarily count on having a wizard available who can conjure a Patronus. And even if one is available, if he's occupied controlling dementors, he's out of the battle."

"Sounds like a research project – where's Granger when you need her?" said Seamus with a light laugh.

"I'll put it to her, but I doubt there's anything in the books that will solve this. We've never had to disable or destroy dementors before. We need someone to come up with something creative."

Mr. Mahoney clapped his hands and grabbed his fiddle and bow again. "Well, while we wait for that seed to germinate, we're here to celebrate. The night's still young enough for more music and dance!"

Before going to bed that night, Harry called Remus on the mirror. Remus seemed a bit worn.

"Are you all right, Remus?" said Harry.

"I'll be fine, Harry," he replied, smiling weakly. "I've been involved in coordinating responses to the attacks all day. It's been very busy, and I think I'd rather be out responding than being a dispatcher. But because of my relationship with you, I'm thought to be uniquely suited to this. Arthur Weasley even finagled putting me on the Ministry payroll. The downside for me is that I no longer will be participating in Order activities."

"It hasn't been that time-consuming that you can't be in the Order, has it?" asked Harry.

"No – today was, though, and this may be a harbinger of things to come. But there's a more critical reason."

"What's that?"

Remus smiled. "What am I doing right now, Harry?"

"Erm, smiling and, erm, talking with me, and … looking at me?"

"Right in three!" said Remus. "Dumbledore doesn't want plans revealed to you inadvertently through your poorly controlled legilemency. With your link to Voldemort, he may be able to spy on us through you. There is much that we can tell you, because Voldemort will have his sources as well, but much we need to protect. Dumbledore is skilled at Occlumency, so he can shield plans from you, but I'm not. We really had four choices – not respond to the warnings your scar would give, let only Dumbledore be in contact with you, make this my fulltime and exclusive duty, or let Professor Snape be your contact person. The first two are unacceptable, and Snape is too busy – to say nothing of not being too keen about being at your beck and call – to do it. So that left it to me. We're working out precautions so that I can inform people who need to know, and they can inform you of what you should know, but I won't know the things which we don't want you to know."

"I hope you're not going to feel restive and isolated, like Sirius did two years ago."

"Thanks for your concern, Harry, but I am by no means isolated. I am in contact with plenty of people. I am also far more patient about not being in the thick of things than Sirius ever learned to be. That's part of being a werewolf – knowing that you're going to have to spend some time out of commission."

"So how did the response go today?"

"We stopped all but four: two quick killings and two got the dementor's kiss first. Most of the attacks were by dementors, so all we could do is chase them away. We figured there must be sorcerers nearby, but none were identified, much less caught. Congratulations are in order to you, I hear, on an excellent save."

"Who, me? I didn't do anything but apparate. Seamus conjured the Patronus."

Remus shook his head. "Harry, Harry: when are you going to take credit for what you have accomplished? There are some dozen-odd students now with corporeal patronuses, and it's all because you have taught them. Before you learned the Patronus charm, students would not even start learning it until 7th year NEWT Defense class. Half of the seventh years at Hogwarts are ready for their NEWT test in defense already, except for not mastering the patronus. And now one of your students has saved a life. You don't have to be a braggart, but puff up a bit – you deserve it."

"I'm proud of what they've accomplished, of course. But I haven't really done much – I was just working from the example of a very good teacher I had."

Remus sighed. "Cameron and I have talked about this. Your head knows that a lot of good has been done by you and because of your assistance. But you just don't seem able to truly see the good of you."

"I guess the whole magic thing seems something apart from me."

"But you're a fine fellow independent of the magic. I'm glad to know Harry, the young man, as well as Harry, the wizard."

"I've had friends now for six years and it still is hard for me to understand that people could care for me."

"Believe it, Harry, we do. You can use your legilemency if you need to convince yourself of that."

Harry smiled, "I'll pass on that. I'm working too hard on not using legilemency inappropriately. I had a very disturbing experience earlier."

"Such as?"

"Well, Seamus's sister Katherine thanked us with kisses. Before she kissed me, she looked in my eyes and said something like 'I can thank you proper, you're not my brother,' and then she gave me a real snog. She had surprised me, so that when she looked into my eyes, I was not suppressing the legilemency. I saw what kind of a thank-you was on her mind. Remus, it was a lot more than a kiss!"

Remus laughed. "Well, it wouldn't have been an undeserved reward, but I think it was very decent and wise of you not to take advantage of the situation. People often have conflicting thoughts – I'm sure she had a notion to do those things, but she probably had other parts of her mind which pulled against them. After all you're younger, her brother's roommate, etcetera. And she may have conflicting feelings about doing those things anyway – our bodies scream to do them, but our minds know that they come with all sorts of entanglements, both physical and emotional. You did well, Harry. I hope you will come to me or Cameron to help sort out your feelings about attractions and desires."

"Sure, Remus, I'll try. Erm, Remus, there's something else on my mind. Can we talk?"

"Aren't we?"

"I mean - is Tonks there?"

"No, Harry," said Lupin more quietly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, she was there last time I called kind of late, and, well, I know you have taken a bit of a fancy to her."

"I'm not sure that's any of your business, Harry."

"Maybe not, it's just that, well, I think of you as a friend, and a few days ago, she said how much she liked you, but she was getting frustrated with you keeping your distance so much."

"I see, and you have an opinion on that, do you?"

"Well, I like both of you, and you both seem to like each other - I'd like for both of you to be happy."

Lupin looked down sadly.

"I want her to be happy, too, Harry. That's why I've pulled back."

"But she likes you. A lot."

Lupin smiled weakly. "Harry, if I were to be involved with anyone, it would only be a matter of time before I made a mistake, forgot to take my potion, and hurt that person badly, maybe kill them - or worse."

"What could be worse?"

"Oftentimes, I think it's worse to be a werewolf than to be dead."

"Remus, please don't talk like that. I'd hate to lose another person I care about."

"Don't worry, Harry, I'm not that sort. But I couldn't forgive myself if I hurt others that way."

"You're hurting her now by being distant."

"She'll get over it. She'll find someone who can give her the life she deserves."

"You had close friends at school: you never made them werewolves."

"They were animagi - they could avoid it and help control me."

"She's a metamorphmagus - I'll bet she could become an animagus real easy."

"It's much more than changing appearance, Harry. You've got to be able to change yourself from within to make a proper transition."

"You could give her a chance," Harry said, then paused for a response. Getting none he went on. "Unless ... unless you're the one who can't bear the hurt. Remus, just because you lost your first friends doesn't mean it's going to happen again."

"Nice words, Potter, but we're in a war, and unless you weren't aware, Tonks has been sent out repeatedly to answer the attacks. She's facing dementors without a patronus!"

"Really? I would have thought that was an auror requirement."

"Officially it is, but for the longest time, it was considered just a technical thing, so any silvery mist would get you past the inspectors, especially with Tonks, since her other skills were so valuable."

"Still, I say a life without love is hardly worth living."

"_Et tu_, Harry? You haven't had a girlfriend in, what, three months?"

"Well, I hadn't given up on Marietta, and then she ... was killed. I'm not really over that yet."

"Of course, Harry, but I'll bet you've had a few thoughts along those lines by now."

Remus grinned slyly, and noted Harry's rising blush.

"Go ahead, Harry, you can tell me."

"Promise you won't say anything?"

"Harry, of course. Haven't I kept confidences before?"

"Okay. Well, I suppose I've been thinking of Ginny Weasley in those ways, the possibility of being more than just friends."

"Good! She's got a sharp sense of humor and playfulness to her. You could really use a bit of lightening up."

"_Et tu_, Remus?"

"Okay, you scored a point there. Let's both not slam the doors shut just because there's a war on."

"Okay, Remus. I know we'll talk more later. I'd better go now. The rest of the house is already in bed. I don't want to disturb them."

Harry went to bed, but he did not sleep well. At first he thought it was all the dancing, perhaps the whiskey, or just generally the excitement of the day. But then he realized that he could not stop thinking about the attacks. From one at a time, to two, and now many, the scope of the attacks was growing. The Ministry was still able to respond, but if they increased much more, they soon would exceed the Ministry's capabilities.

Harry was being stretched by it too. The fierce recurrent pain, the panicked run to the mirror, the worrying about results and even as today participating in warding off attacks, were already taking their toll. He was tired and anxious – and angry.

Harry had to admit to himself that this was getting to him A few of the targets may have had some sort of strategic purpose, but most were just random. They were attempted executions for no other purpose than to foment discord, panic and division. A few had been blocked, but many were successful, and the numbers must soon climb.

As he lapsed into an agitated sleep, Harry began to dream. At first he simply could not get the image of the Dark Mark on the telly out of his mind. Then he had images of Voldemort sending out hundreds of followers to fan out first over Britain and then the world, exterminating all resistance. He pictured dementors spreading over the land, like the plagues of locusts he had seen in school films before Hogwarts. Harry twisted and writhed for hours until he fell out of bed. He felt his scar and knew that at that moment, Voldemort was sleeping soundly. Harry was determined to do so as well. He concentrated on the good times he had known at The Burrow. He allowed no other thoughts. Finally he was able to sleep well.


	8. Understanding Women

Chapter 8 Understanding Women

Over the next day and a half Harry had to call Remus four times with additional reports of attacks. It sickened Harry to be the conduit of the information and it was more repulsive yet to experience Voldemort's pleasure at it. It was a relief to Harry when he could focus on things enough to clear his mind, such as Sunday evening when he worked on his summer assignments and spellwork and Monday morning when got back to vigorous exercise. As scheduled, Monday after lunch he went to Mrs. Figg's house to meet with Cameron MacBoon.

"Hello, Harry," said Cameron, meeting him at the door, "How are you?"

"I assume you've spoken with Remus," said Harry, "so you should have a pretty good idea."

"You assume? I thought you couldn't turn the legilemency off?"

"I've been working on that. I find I can suppress it, with an active effort. It's kind of like learning not to slouch – you consciously do it for a while and it gets easier and easier, until you only have to check yourself on occasion. It's not that easy yet, by any means, though – I'm still in the 'think about it' stage, and if I'm caught off-guard by someone looking me in the eye, then I can't help but get a notion of what's on their mind. If I'm ready, though, I can and do suppress it around people: I want the thoughts in my head to be my own."

Cameron nodded. "Yes, I can see where that would be a problem, keeping the flood out. Well, then, of course I have spoken with Remus and others about what you've been doing since we last visited. This tells me what you have been doing, and I can guess some of the ways it has been affecting you, but that can only be a reasonable guess. It is better that you openly express what's consciously on your mind. It helps you to organize it, to get rid of what you can, and to dredge up the hidden feelings pushing to get out."

"Alright then," said Harry, "I'm frustrated, angry, tired, annoyed. I want to learn the secrets of peace through love, but my time is spent responding to messages of murderous intents, and the repulsive glee that Voldemort experiences upon ordering another death. You told me I'm supposed to learn to love him and his followers, but I'm seeing into the cesspool of his mind, and it's not pretty."

Cameron listened very attentively, nodding sympathetically. "Good, Harry. I certainly don't want you to feel agreement or affection for them. Don't worry about loving them just yet. It's enough that you are aware that love for all people is the goal. For now you'll practice with less odious people, which brings us to your Aunt Marge. Why do you dislike her so?"

Harry glared at him like he was asking the stupidest question in the world. Then he caught himself and thought that this must be part of the procedure, so he'd go along.

"Ever since I can remember she has treated me just awful. She's set her dog on me, she says awful things about me, she insults my parents. She dotes on Dudley, which would be okay, except she always uses it as an occasion to taunt me – I can do without things, but she waved them in my face to taunt me. I think I could have taken being ignored, but she savored the torment."

"Okay. Now where do you think she got this attitude about you?"

"Well, mostly it was just what she had been told by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They told her I was being sent off to St. Brutus's School for Incorrigibly Criminal Boys – something like that, like I was some sort of a thug and thief. All along Dudley was the one who was beating up kids, including me. He also would vandalize stuff and steal things, even though he was given more stuff than he knew how to use. She's also always said awful things about how I look – my skinniness and my hair, that sort of thing – anything that was distinctly different from the Dursleys."

"Okay, some of that we'll sort out when we talk about the relatives you live with. As for Aunt Marge, it seems she repeated what she heard – sounds pretty understandable to me."

Harry looked at him and thought. "Well, I suppose, but she always went so far with it. She'd also make up things about my parents as an 'explanation' for why I turned out so worthless; at least Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had the decency not to insult an orphan's parents, or maybe they just didn't want me to think about them. But that wasn't Aunt Marge's way - she delighted in terrorizing me."

Cameron smiled, "Isn't 'terrorizing' a strong word?"

"That's what it feels like to a small boy."

"No doubt, but it really was just a rather severe case of bullying, right?"

"It's just a question of scale: it's the same sort of behavior, inflicting distress to break someone down. I don't see that her delight in tormenting me is all that different, except in scale, from Voldemort's delight in torturing and killing people."

"Good point, and yet there is a difference – from what you say, she never went beyond hateful words."

"Well, she set her dog on me and whacked my shins with her walking stick."

"Okay. Nothing truly injurious then. Now why do you think she might have acted that way?" asked Cameron.

"She's a nasty, evil toad."

Cameron smiled. "Well, we'll start there. You recognized that she got her ideas about you from somewhere – maybe she got her ideas about dealing with people from somewhere as well. Your Uncle Vernon was pretty harsh with you, too, wasn't he?"

"I think the only reason he was less brutal was out of concern that authorities would be brought in if I were visibly injured. But he can't have taught that attitude to her: she's several years older than him."

"Sure, Harry, but maybe they both got that attitude from the same source."

Harry gave a glance of recognition: "Their parents, or rather their mother and stepfather. I don't really know anything about them, though, so it's hard to say."

"I did some research, Harry."

"Did you? You're thorough."

"Dumbledore impressed on me the importance of this assignment. What I found was that their stepfather was a refugee from Vichy France. He had fled, with a considerable cache of French gold, to Chile during the turmoil of the postwar years because of his cooperation with the Nazis. It's not that he was charged with any crimes, but his enthusiasm for the German-installed regime was great and notorious, and he made a lot of enemies with his vigorous persecution of the French Resistance. In the mid 50s, he came to England on a tourist visa as he explored whether he could return to France. He was still unwelcome and needed a legal basis to stay in Britain. He found the widow Dursley, husband killed in an industrial accident, trying to raise two small children. She could provide resident status and he could provide support. It was a convenient arrangement, and she came to embrace the ideas he perpetually preached of society's need for uniformity and submission to central authorities."

Harry thought, and then asked, "That sounds like he was communist, but you said he cooperated with the Nazis?"

"What's the difference?"

"Let's see. When I was in muggle schools, we learned that the communists believe in government owning all the factories and shops and stuff like that, and that's called leftist, and that the fascists believe in such things being owned privately, but with the government controlling how they are run: that's called right-wing. The Nazis were supposed to be like that."

"Again, Harry, what's the difference – how can you say you really own something if someone else controls what you do with it. We're not talking about limits to avoid harming others. In either case, leftist or rightist, you're under the control of and exist at the mercy of the people in charge. Also with either right-wingers or left-wingers, the government tries to tell people what to think."

"I see. I've never had to support myself, or have a business or a job, so I hadn't really thought about it. That's bad enough at the national level – it must be awful in a family."

"Well, at either level, the oppressiveness depends on the character of the people in charge. A government might have the legal authority to seize control, but not exercise it. But we're here to understand the Dursleys, and Marge and Vernon Dursley had a hard time of it. Your uncle and aunt were subjected to just as much brutality, badgering, and bullying as you experienced - every bit as much. Severity and cruelty is all they knew. They never had an example to work from to show them differently. They never had an Arthur or Molly Weasley, a Remus Lupin, a Minerva McGonnagall, or an Albus Dumbledore to show them a better way."

"Or a Cameron MacBoon," added Harry.

"That's kind of you, Harry. I hope I can be a positive influence."

"Professor Snape," said Harry, with a thoughtful look.

"I wouldn't have though you would include him as one of those healthy role models."

"Oh, no, not at all. Quite the contrary, but it just occurred to me that he's the same sort of bully, and over the past couple of years while practicing Occlumency, I saw into his memories. His father seemed to be a bully as well, though I've only seen little bits. Maybe he just doesn't know any other way."

"Aye. You see: you go from understanding and empathizing with Aunt Marge, and you leap all the way to a better understanding of Professor Snape. Who knows where this will lead? How soon is she arriving?"

"Wednesday late morning."

"That's fine. Do you think you can understand her a bit better now?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm actually kind of intrigued now to see how the way she acts shows how she was brought up. I'm wondering about something, though."

"Good, Harry, it's best that you be thinking these things through. What is it?"

"Why is Uncle Vernon decent now? He's treating me with respect and he even offered to help as he could in the war against Voldemort. At first I thought that Dumbledore had given him a potion, and he did mention a 'delightful tea,' but those can only go so far and for so long, unless they were so strong they would damage him."

"It really is a puzzle, Harry. I think you're suspicions are well-founded that Dumbledore gave him a mild potion to make him more receptive to reasons to treat you decently. But I've certainly learned from Arabella the limits of potions. They won't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, and yet that's what seems to be happening. I would say that he has the advantage of a child and a loving wife, while Marge only has her dogs, but that didn't seem to make a difference for the prior fifteen years. It's as if something were melting away the foulness his upbringing had filled him with, but I've almost never seen such a thing before."

"Almost? Then you have seen it before – when?"

"A little over twenty years ago. Your father and Sirius Black were right obnoxious – popular, in that they were always entertaining and well admired, but arrogant twits as well. Your father was the typical swaggering star athlete and Sirius was the Big Man on Campus – rich, powerful, pureblood with a lineage that went back centuries. Both knew that they were hot stuff and acted it – and they had the style to get away with it."

Harry looked down, with shame on his face. "Yeah, I, erm, found out about that. Real bullies they were, too. Sirius owned up to it before he was killed."

"That's right, Harry, they were. But there are always a few who aren't entertained by such things and won't have anything to do with people like that. You're mother was among those, saw right through them. She detested Sirius and your father. No, that's not quite accurate. Hatred was not a part of her character, but she detested the behavior, and would have nothing to do with them. But then, right at the beginning of their sixth year, your father was injured very badly and spent over three weeks in the Hospital Wing. Your mother did a lot of the caring for him, as she was in the Healer trainee program, just as your friends, Miss Granger and Miss Edgecombe were. Of course, Sirius was around the Hospital Wing a lot of that time, too. By the time your father was released, he was a changed man, not totally at first, but unmistakably. Sirius was starting to change, too, but that was much more subtle and tentative. Your father started developing character and became a really decent young man over that year. With your father's turnaround, your mother started spending more and more time with him and his group of friends. And the rest, as they say, is history."

"And no one knows why he changed?"

"No. No one could fail to note it – except Severus Snape, of course – but nobody ever had an adequate explanation. Some said it was just maturation, but it was too profound a change, as with your uncle. Some said it was brain damage from the accident, but he showed no other signs. Someone even suggested that it wasn't really James, but that somebody really good and kind was using polyjuice potion to substitute for him, but nobody could come up with a decent scenario to explain that. It's a puzzler still, and maybe it's happening again. Who can say?"

Harry looked perplexed. He was aware of a number of breakthroughs recently, from Neville and Seamus and most all the DA with their magical abilities to Uncle Vernon and the rest of the Dursleys developing decency. He wondered if something was going on with all that.

"Well, I don't think we're going to solve it now, Harry. I'd like to talk with you about Katherine Finnegan."

Harry blushed. "Erm, what about her?"

Cameron laughed. "I don't need legilemency to read you on this, Harry. Besides, I've talked to Remus about it. He suggested I talk to you a bit more than he did."

"Well, the kiss would have been fine, even in front of Mrs. Finnegan. That's not so different than a couple months ago when the Ravenclaws clapped their enchanted Snogging Hat on me and I had to kiss all the Ravenclaw girls before I could take it off. But Katherine had things on her mind that were far more than snogging. It was kind of scary, actually, both because I barely knew her and because I was seeing those thoughts in her mind."

"You know, Harry, 'most every man thinks he'd like to know when women are thinking sexual thoughts and just what those thoughts are – you can and you find that it's not all it's cracked up to be. First off, let's sort a few things out. It's not as if you've never thought of doing those things before, is it?"

The question embarrassed Harry, but he admitted, "Well, no, of course not."

"It's normal and healthy, just as Arabella said a few days ago. And I'll bet you even entertained some of those thoughts about Katherine once you met her."

"What is this, some sort of squib legilemency?"

"No, it's just being a man. Truth be told, it's probably true for women as well, but I can't speak for how their minds work on these matters. It's very normal to see an appealing woman – whether for some reason she is off-limits or not – and think what it would be like to hold her and touch her and kiss her and … well, that's enough detail for this discussion. I'll bet you've had those thoughts about just about just about every girl at Hogwarts, haven't you?"

"Well, not the younger ones – they're pretty much still children, you know."

"Yes, I do, Harry."

"You don't think I'm some sort of pervert for those thoughts?"

"For having sexual thoughts about young women? Not at all. It's part of Nature's plan for men and women to be attracted to each other and to want to do those things with each other. And people don't just have their life-partners names popped out of a fiery goblet. It takes time for a person to get to know enough people and get enough experience with life to know the sort of person he wants to be his exclusive partner. Having those thoughts is just sort of a way to try out different options – forming the intent to act on them is where we go wrong. I'm sure you've fantasized about being a professional quidditch player, or an auror, or a teacher, and on and on. The options for our lives are immense and our fantasies help us sort out which ones work for us, whether it's career fantasies or sexual fantasies."

"But don't fantasies have to be grounded in reality?"

"Not really, but if we are going to act on them, we need to compare what our fantasies are with the real world and be sure that we do act in a way that values others' concerns adequately. For instance, there are not many positions open for aurors, although the Ministry has started a recruitment and training push. There may simply not be any positions open when you are of an age to apply. Or take Professor Snape: he has applied every year since he became a teacher for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and he's right that he knows his stuff in that area, but Dumbledore wants him to be teaching Potions instead, and he accepts Dumbledore's decision gracefully – more or less. There is nothing wrong with him continuing to request the job, so long as he doesn't do such things as eliminate the competition. Similarly, we may feel that a person is everything we want in our lives, but she may not want us or she may have other commitments that prevent a relationship from developing. There may or may not be things we can do to bring the relationship about, but in the end, we have to deal with the real world, whatever that presents to us. And that brings us back to Katherine. You caught one of her sexual fantasies when you looked into her mind."

"Just a fantasy?" said Harry, "Hmm, I felt like it was more, but then, hmm, she was fantasizing about me?"

"What more could it be? She didn't act on it. You are an entirely normal object of fantasies, Harry. You're a young, strong, handsome athlete, you're very good at all the things you set your mind to, you are an undeniable hero and defender of the good and yet you break the rules enough to have that 'bad boy' charm going for you. And for Katherine in particular, you were a knight in shining armor, swooping in to rescue her from certain death. Her emotions were very fluid and agitated, and you represented protection and support and adventure."

"Somehow analyzing it makes me feel less special. All those things are about me, but they aren't me, if you catch my meaning."

"I do exactly. We have all these attributes which pertain to us and which are our face to the world. But when it comes to personal relationships, we don't want to be taken for any of those things, but just for ourselves. That's why I wanted you to call me 'Cameron' rather than 'Reverend.' 'Reverend' is my title and my job. Our relationship needs to be two men talking about what universal love is all about, not a preacher laying down authority to a novitiate."

"So what is this saying about my legilemency, because I thought sure that the message I saw in her mind was 'I want to … erm, 'do' him.'"

"Well, remember that legilemency does not see every detail of the mind. There are of course limits. Katherine was no doubt thinking exactly what you thought she was, but she probably also was indulging fantasy because she knew that the circumstances would in no way allow her to act on those thoughts. With her family around, she was in sort of a cocoon, where she could not act sexually, and that freed her to think very sexually, without consideration of the drawbacks and limitations that sexual involvement would bring."

"That makes sense. Kind of like when I've fantasized about hurting Draco Malfoy terribly when he has pulled some stunt, when I know that I wouldn't really have the chance to do so."

"I want you to understand something deeper, Harry. People are a mass of contradictory thoughts and feelings, very complex and ever-changing. Don't take anyone as just the veneer that you see at one given moment, or even the most commonly presented persona. There is always more than meets the eye – even an eye like yours that can see within the mind. You must understand that learning to treat people with love means taking into account the whole conflicting mass of emotions that comprise their psyches. If you had been able to get Katherine off by herself this weekend, she may in her emotional state have done all those things she was thinking, but I'm quite certain that both of you would have been hurt by it and been regretful, as she would have been acting out of extreme gratitude and you would have been taking advantage of her emotional state. Learning to love others means that you cannot be a predator, an opportunist exploiting their momentary weaknesses for your own gain. Except, of course, when you are fighting: then it's kill or be killed, and I'd rather like to see you around for awhile. Okay, Harry?"

"Okay, Cameron, I think I understand what you're saying."

"Are you ready for Aunt Marge?"

"Not really, but I'll try thinking about what makes her do the things she does."

"It's the old saying, Harry, 'Never judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes' – listen to what must be behind her saying and doing the things she does, and with understanding will come empathy, then sympathy, and then …"

"Let's just aim for understanding right now, Cameron"


	9. Hello, Aunt Marge

Chapter 9 Hello, Aunt Marge

Vernon Dursley took Wednesday off so that he could meet his sister at the station and smooth the transition to having her in the house. Over breakfast, Harry and the Dursleys discussed how to make Aunt Marge's visit acceptable to all. Harry tried to ask Uncle Vernon about his upbringing, but it was shrugged off.

"I don't really remember all that much, to tell the truth, Harry, er, rather, Potter - I'd better get back into practice just calling you Potter again. I remember Smeltings very fondly, of course. I stayed over many of the holidays there, although I can't recall now why, but it was always fun to have the run of the place. As for home life, let's see: I can remember Marge and me playing pretend games together, but that's about it."

"What kind of games?" pressed Harry.

Vernon was clearly uncomfortable with this line of thought and tightened his face into a remarkable likeness of a disgruntled English bulldog. "PRETEND – small children do that, or have you forgotten? Is this necessary, Potter?" said Uncle Vernon gruffly. Harry couldn't tell if this reaction was Uncle Vernon still 'getting into character' for Marge's arrival, or if he was that uncomfortable discussing his childhood.

"Uncle Vernon, we all want this visit to come off without a hitch. I know I neither want to interfere with your relationship with your sister, nor to lose my temper. She can be very trying to me, you know, and Reverend MacBoon has impressed on me how coming to understand how she came to be like she is builds empathy for that person."

"Oh, very well then, let me think," said Vernon as he stroked his large jaw and looked up at the corner of the kitchen to search his memory. "She's four years older, so she would take the lead. It seems she often wanted to play war games, but we wouldn't be fighting actually; we'd be hiding in foxholes or trenches. Of course, it was actually under the bed or in a cupboard or a wardrobe or the attic or such, sometimes even under the house. We'd have to be really quiet so the Nazis wouldn't get us. Or sometimes, we played Battle of Britain and pretend we were a London family trying to avoid the bomber raids by staying in the dark. We'd whisper as quietly as possible about the terrible things that might happen if the Gerries found us."

"That's odd," said Petunia.

"Now you're in on this, too?" snapped Vernon.

"Not really, but it is interesting. You've told me so little about your childhood. You know so much more about mine. But what seemed odd was that you'd have to stay silent while playing Battle of Britain."

"Why is that odd?" asked Harry.

"The Battle of Britain was an air war – the Germans tried to bomb us into submission and we used our fighter planes and anti-aircraft artillery to knock their planes out. My parents – your grandparents – told me all about it. They had to turn off all the lights and fires so that the Germans would have trouble locating cities – navigation and radar wasn't near what it is today – but they didn't have to be silent. The German air crews certainly couldn't hear people from half a mile up."

"Petunia," replied Vernon, "what you're saying makes sense, but I'm telling the game as we played it."

"I see," said Harry. "I wonder if Marge had a reason she wanted the two of you to keep silent and out of sight. Don't you remember outdoor games or play?"

"No, not at all; outdoors was always work. Stepfather thought it was shameful for a person to be idle or unproductive at any time - wise thought there. But, you know, I can't even remember what he looked like - he died my last year at Smeltings. My mother got rid of all pictures of him, burned them - said it was showing due respect. That's all I can recall, Potter, and all I care to. Don't push it any further: I really am quite uncomfortable about it. Now as for the visit, if you need to get away, use the cue word, or if you can't work it in, do something we can punish you for. We'll send you to your room and you can do what you need to. Mostly we'll figure it out as we go. We know that there are times you have to make calls and that there are limits to patience. Okay?"

"Sure, Uncle Vernon. I can't thank you enough for working with me on this."

"It's for us, too. We don't want problems like we had before. Besides, it seems you're helping to save lives and this is a small contribution we can make to that. Well, then, does anyone want to go to the station with me to pick up Marge?"

Dudley was already ready to go. After all, it was worth an extra twenty-note to meet her there. Aunt Petunia wanted to do additional cleaning. Harry did not even need to say that he didn't care to go. Harry was surprised to find that even though he had misgivings about her visit, he was looking forward to it. Cameron kept telling him about learning to love even the unlovable, but so far Harry had trouble imagining what that was like. He loved his friends, and really most people he knew, though differently. But those were people who were nice to be around, not someone who so delighted in digging at him. What would it be like to love someone like Marge? Harry shuddered at some of the interpretations those words led to, and then he remembered that Cameron said that the love he was learning was not affection, but a choice to care about that person. Harry was going to force himself to care for Marge.

Harry spent the time while Uncle Vernon was away making sure that any wizarding things were well out of sight, except, of course, his wands, which he never went without, and Hedwig. Harry thought about sending her to Ron or Hermione, but then figured that even though an owl is a very unusual pet for a muggle, it is a pet after all, and as a dog breeder Marge should react well to someone who keeps a pet – not that it made any difference on her last summer visit.

After about an hour and a half, Harry heard the car in the driveway.

"You'd better come down and make an appearance, Harry," called Aunt Petunia.

"Of course," said Harry.

Marge came in larger and louder than ever, with her favorite bulldog Ripper tucked into an arm like some other woman might carry a Yorkie. Harry's memory had dimmed in the intervening years, and he had come to remember her as a more typical person, so he was surprised.

"Petunia," bellowed Marge, bumping cheeks in an affectation of a kiss. "You look lovely. The years are really adding character. My, you are fortunate to have two such handsome men living with you. Dudley's become so solid, and I barely recognized Vernon for the thick head of hair. What'd you do, put him on Minoxidil? All you need now is a bottle of Viagra and you'd have the perfect man."

Harry could see although Aunt Petunia's face was locked in a smile, her teeth were grinding as this was being said. He was very tempted to use his legilemency to see the real attitude of each of them, but decided against it.

"Marge!" replied Petunia. "So lovely to see you again. I'm so glad that you could stay for such a nice long visit."

"Yes, yes. I hate to be so close to the city so long, but the construction of the new kennels makes the place unlivable. Colonel Fubster was such a sport to take the rest of the dogs for me. Of course, I couldn't leave my dear Ripper behind."

She hoisted Ripper like a toy. Ripper looked over Marge's shoulder at Harry and began to growl. Only then did Marge notice Harry.

"What are you doing there, boy!" she barked.

"Just here to greet you, Aunt Marge," replied Harry calmly.

"Probably expecting some kind of a handout, I'll wager. I can see the makings of a mooch. Well, there'll be none from me. I'm no mollycoddle for your kind, like Vernon and Petunia. You'd better be grateful to them for taking you in!"

Harry smiled. "Oh, I am, Aunt Marge. I appreciate this home very much."

Marge eyed him suspiciously. "You're up to something. You've always been an ungrateful, scurrilous brat. I'll have my eye on you. Go get my bags from the car. Be snappy."

"Yes, Aunt Marge, I'd be glad to," replied Harry, heading toward the front door. Vernon started to hand Harry the keys to open the trunk.

"Vernon!" Marge bellowed. "You can't give car keys to that sort. He'll be stealing the car and creating all sorts of mayhem in a flash. Let Dudley take care of it."

"Now Marge," said Vernon, "he's had the keys before and never taken the car. He's really been growing up into a better sort."

Marge was hearing nothing of that. "Vernon, you've always been too soft with the boy. You can't make a purebred out of a mutt. He may toe the line long enough to get something he wants, but mark my words, he'll be off terrorizing the area before long! You can trust him with the keys when my stuff's not in the car, but so long as it is, I'd rather Dudley had them."

Vernon handed the keys to Dudley, rolling his eyes as he did so, though out of Marge's sight. Harry had to suppress his laughter.

Harry couldn't resist the opportunity to goad Aunt Marge. "Oh, there's no need to come out, Dudley. I don't need keys to open a car."

Aunt Marge's eyes bugged out. "I knew it – I knew he was a common thief!"

Dudley's eyes also bugged out and he looked around at his parents to let him know what he should do.

"Potter!" barked Uncle Vernon. "We'll not have OUR car opened any way but with the key! Dudley, go on out there and open it up."

As they closed the front door and headed to the car, Dudley shook his head. "Y'know, Harry, I always knew she was kind of abrupt and rude with you. I just didn't notice how bad she could be."

"Oh, this is nothing so far. I think you're only seeing it now because we're friends now."

"Are we, Harry?" asked Dudley genuinely. "Are we friends now? I didn't exactly treat you so well for quite a few years."

"I think we are. You were a pain alright, but it really was the way you were taught. I can see that now, and we've been doing okay for over a year."

"I like that," said Dudley, extending his hand. "Friends, then."

Harry shook his hand and smiled. "Let's hope Aunt Marge doesn't see that."

"So what if she does? I'm her only nephew – what's she going to do? And I'd rather be friends with you anyway."

Harry smiled inwardly. This made up for any nasty thing Marge had said. "Let's get the bags then. Or, rather, I'd better get them – Marge wouldn't understand you helping me with a job."

"You know, this play-acting could actually be some fun, couldn't it?" said Dudley.

"Yeah, I reckon it could, if things don't get too tense. But I don't just want to fool her – I want to figure out what makes her tick," said Harry.

"Well, if you insist. Sometimes it seems to me it's better to just get past something. There may not be an explanation."

Harry grabbed two of the suitcases and lugged them into the house.

"Lazybones! What are you doing with only two of them?" shouted Marge, sloshing her cup of coffee onto the hardwood floors of the hall, making Petunia cringe.

"My arms aren't big enough to carry more than that, at least without scuffing them, Aunt Marge," explained Harry.

"I'll take none of your sass, boy. See that you don't mar my bags. Be quick about it then!"

"Yes, Aunt Marge," said Harry gently, as he headed up the stairs.

"Watch that tone, you hooligan!"

Harry felt like he could use house elf lessons to deal with this. "Love is patient," said Harry to himself.

Harry had hoped that Marge would be uninterested in seeing him and Dudley box, but to his disappointment – and Petunia's visible relief, which amused Harry – she insisted on coming along. She made a point of giving Dudley pointers, even though he rolled his eyes at the things she was saying. She praised Dudley's massive physique, which was clearly more solid than before he started boxing, but was still sheathed in the excess pounds the Dursleys so readily acquired. She openly ridiculed Harry's flat etched chest and abdomen, and his slender but muscled arms and legs. Her eyes squinted up with glee at the prospects of Dudley flattening his much smaller cousin. As Harry dodged punch after punch, she shouted insults at his cowardice for not standing still to fight. She cried foul whenever Harry landed a fist. When Dudley took a punch well, it was because of the Dursley toughness; when Harry took a punch well, it was because he had no brains to rattle.

"Love is not easily angered," thought Harry, consciously fighting to hold onto that thought.

Barely a half hour into the spar, his scar began to ache with warnings of a new round of attacks. He got Dudley into a clench and whispered through his mouthguard that he had to make a call.

"The mirror's in your bag, isn't it?" asked Dudley as he pretended to try to break free.

Harry nodded.

"I'll punch at your face when we separate – say you got something in your eye and take your bag to the locker room."

Harry nodded again and let go of Dudley. As he stepped back, Dudley's fist came across Harry's face, just grazing the forehead.

"Ahh! My eye!" shouted Harry, covering the eye with one hand and spitting out the mouthguard into the other. "There's something in it – I've got to go wash it out."

Harry ran to get his gym bag.

"Hah! What an obvious ruse. You're the referee, Vernon, don't let him go. The boy obviously couldn't take any more so he's running away like the coward he is," yelled Marge. Then she took on a babyish, singsong voice. "Ickle baby Potter, can't handle any pain. He has to wun away and cwy-y-y!"

The voice was too reminiscent of Bellatrix LeStrange at the Ministry of Magic. It pushed Harry beyond all his good intentions and his face contorted in rage as he kneeled by his gym bag and placed his hands on his wands.

Uncle Vernon stepped over to him, at first shocked and afraid, but then regaining his composure. Loudly he said, "I can see in your eye, Potter, that there's something causing you pain. I'll call a break for you to take care of it."

Harry continued to breathe deeply in his anger, so Vernon added, only loud enough for Harry to hear, "Who d'you want to be like, Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes and nodded. Anger and revenge was Voldemort's way. He'd rather take the right path, that of love and forgiveness, even for those who don't ask for it or even understand that they ought to do.

"Thanks, Ref. I'll be right back."

As Harry ran to the locker room, made sure it was empty, and called Remus, he could still hear Marge's taunting that he was running like a little baby from the beating he was getting.

After reporting to Remus the impending attacks, Remus asked, "Harry, are you okay?"

"It's just my Aunt Marge. She's being, uh, …"

"She's being Aunt Marge. You've told me about her. Take a deep breath. Call me later. I've got to send out squads. Bye."

Harry smiled. It was certainly calming just to talk to Remus. He would have to remember how soothing it could be to take a break with someone who cares.

The rest of the week was much of the same. Marge never missed an opportunity to malign Harry or his parents. He was annoyed but kept his temper. This was made easier by the Dursleys very actively intervening regularly, insisting that St. Brutus's counselor had demanded that Harry be given lots of time in his room to reflect on proper behavior. Petunia sent him several times on meaningless errands when she felt she would have lost her temper at Marge's conduct if she had been Harry. Still it was a welcome respite to have another session with Cameron Friday afternoon and then to leave for Ernie McMillan's house after Friday's sparring. Of course, Marge was told that he was being sent to a disciplinary boot camp run by St. Brutus's.

Before he left, Harry sent letters to Ron and Hermione and told Hedwig where he would be when it was time to come back to him. She hooted indignantly at the suggestion that she had to be told how to find him. Harry smiled and ruffled her feathers over her proud yet affectionate manner.

"You and I have been through a lot, haven't we Hedwig?"

Uncle Vernon took Harry in his car, saying that he had to get Harry to the bus for the boot camp. When Marge said that she would like to go on the ride, too, Vernon insisted that the crowd at the special bus stop was too rough, so they only allowed men. When they were down the block, Harry thanked him.

Vernon smiled. "It's good for me, too, Harry – a pint and some football down at the pub would be a welcome break. I love my sister, but everyone needs some time away on occasion."

Harry thought that was one of the wisest things he had ever heard his uncle say. "Aunt Petunia must be feeling that way, as well. She doesn't have work to go to."

"Good point, Harry. I'll make sure she gets out this weekend. Be careful."

And with that, Harry disapparated from the passenger seat, and guided himself by Ernie's wand to the McMillans' drawing room.


	10. The McMillans

Chapter 10 - The McMillans

"Harry, how are you doing?" enthused Ernie, extending his hand.

Harry shook his hand. "Great, How 'bout you, Ernie?"

"Just fine. Let me introduce my parents."

He turned Harry around to where a witch and wizard, somewhat older than Remus, somewhat younger than Arthur and Molly Weasley, were smiling benignly toward him.

"Dad, Mum, Harry Potter. Harry, my mother and father."

"Pleased to meet you again, Mr. Potter," said Mr. McMillan, pumping his hand enthusiastically.

"Ah, yes," said Harry. "I remember now. You were at the train station last year, enthusiastic about the Defense Association."

"Exactly," he replied. "Nothing like a mutual study group to really improve the learning."

Then Mrs. McMillan extended her hand delicately "Delighted to meet you, Mr. Potter." Her eyes twinkled warmly, something akin to the way Harry's mother's eyes did in the photographs he had of her.

He stammered a second, before clumsily taking her hand. "Oh, erm, uh, oh nice to meet you, too, but please, both of you, call me Harry."

"Alright, then, Harry, if you'll call us Iphigenia and Porphyrio," said Iphigenia McMillan.

Harry blinked. "Wow, being raised with muggles, those'll take a little getting used to. Forgive me if I revert to 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.' alright, uh, Iphigenia?"

"Of course, Harry," she said, smilingly warmly. "We were both only too aware of how odd our names were for muggles when we got around to naming Ernie."

"Ernie's told us all about that battle at the bank last month," said Porphyrio. "Too bad you had to miss the real action – he says you're a good fighter in a duel. But it sounds like Ernie did magnificently placing people to get the job done with minimum casualties – for our side that is."

Porphyrio's enthusiastic – even blind – pride in his only child reminded Harry of Amos Diggory talking about Cedric before the Quidditch World Cup, or of the Dursleys speaking of Dudley for that matter.

"Dad," said Ernie, somewhat under his breath. "I wasn't the only one organizing the students, and Harry's part was indispensable."

"Ah, well, so you say, Ernie, but it wasn't a leadership role, was it? When they needed someone the others would follow, they turned to you, didn't they, Ern?"

"I suppose, but Professor Weasley and Ron Weasley were up there too."

"Well, there you go – the new acting Minister of Magic and his son. But you didn't need political pull – they turned to you just for your leadership and skill."

Ernie rolled his eyes, but Harry smiled. "Everything I heard about Ernie's work was brilliant, Porphyrio, but that's no surprise really. He's been a shining comet in the DA. I've learned loads from him and we're all so much stronger working together."

Ernie looked sidelong at Harry but said nothing.

Iphigenia, who was no doubt used to her husband's doting on their only child, listened to Harry's response with appreciation and a bit of amusement. Then she smiled kindly toward him and said, "I'm sorry that you had to apparate, Harry, I know it's still very new and frightening to those who have just taken their exams, but we felt we just had to detach from the Floo Network – all those killings and attempts you know. We had to cut off as many routes into the home as possible." There was something about her manner that made Harry feel terribly protective.

"Oh, I don't mind apparating at all; in fact I prefer it. The Floo Network makes me queasy. But is it really going to be helpful to withdraw from it?"

"We don't know. We talked about it. More than half of wizards can't apparate dependably, so we figure we're cutting down the number who could attack here."

"But we're not all that far from Diagon Alley here. Surely they could get here by brooms or muggle transport or even walking."

"What you say makes sense, Harry, but somehow we feel so much more vulnerable when someone can just step into a chimney, say our name and be right in our drawing room. And the dementors can't get through now without someone letting them in – if a door has to be broken at least we have some warning."

Porphyrio nodded as she said all this. "Harry, we're just not fighters the way Ernie and you are. We have to try to use charms to protect ourselves until the aurors can come. The house is decently protected, and we try not to attract unpleasant attention."

"You know that having me over attracts unwanted attention. Wouldn't it be better, then, if I left?" asked Harry.

"We talked that over with Dumbledore when he suggested we invite you. He seemed to think that with Ernie's participation in the Defense Association, we're already targets, and that you wouldn't be adding that much to the danger."

Harry thought about that and said, "I'm not sure if that should be comforting or terrifying."

"It's time, though, that we put our anti-apparation charm back up – we removed it for you, but we feel better having it up," said Porphyrio. "It's been a real comfort having a wizard around who's mastered the Patronus. We never saw the need to work on it before, and now that we need it – well, Ernie's trying to teach it to us, but it's not an easy spell, you know."

"So I've heard," said Harry.

"Dad, it was Harry that taught me. He learned it before any of us and he was the first to show us all in the lethiform pit."

"Oh, yes, I remember you saying so now. He's the one that had a cock-up with his. Yours came off without a hitch, then, didn't it Ern?"

"Well, yeah, but I didn't have another wizard hexing me while I was in there."

"Ernie, you're just too modest," beamed his father.

Harry just smiled. It was good to see such familial pride, and it took a lot of pressure off of him to be the champion.

The weekend went as smoothly as could be expected, given the repeated occasions Harry had to break off from whatever he was doing to call Remus about renewed attacks. Every one of them reinforced the McMillans' intention to withdraw from most contacts with the wizarding world until the war blew over.

Saturday afternoon, they went to Kew Gardens and Mrs. McMillan explained about all the different plants there. On occasion she would whisper about magical properties, but mostly she talked about non-magical qualities. She was like a botanical encyclopedia, except that she appreciated the beauty of both the individual plants and their interactions with each other and other living things. It was a beautiful view of life, thought Harry, to appreciate all the living things for themselves and in their context.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," said Iphigenia. "How I prattle. I'm afraid I was well-placed as a Ravenclaw: we gather so much detail and tend to ramble on at length. I should be more merciful to you broad-brush Gryffindors."

"On the contrary," said Harry, "even though I doubt I'll be able to retain even half of what you're telling me, I find it all quite fascinating. So often in school we see things in isolation, but that's not what lives are about, is it? Interconnection describes life far more than separation."

"Exactly, Harry," she enthused. "Have you ever really seen a forest? Not just individual trees, particular plants or rocks or animals, but the whole forest – the whole system. In a healthy forest, every part has left its traces on all the other parts, and when something is added or taken away, it causes ripples of disruption you can see through the rest of the forest."

"I've never had that chance, Iphigenia. On occasion, I hear Hagrid talking about the Forest at Hogwarts like that, but I've never had a chance to see it as an entity in itself. Next time I'm there, I'll ask him to show me the connections between things."

"You do that, Harry, or maybe Ernie could take you through. He understands the forests, too. We often get out to the countryside all together."

"I didn't know that," said Harry, as much to himself as to anyone. Harry realized that although he had often had dealings with Ernie, he never really had gotten to know Ernie. It seemed a shame, he thought, as he watched Ernie examining insects on the bark of a tree. Ernie clearly had depths Harry had not had the chance to discover. He could be officious, but there was more to him than that.

Porphyrio spoke up proudly, "Ernie's thorough, he is. It stood him in good stead in the OWLs – 12, you know, mostly outstanding. We figure he's at the top of the class among the boys – good shot at Head Boy, he has."

"Dad, sometimes they look for other qualities for Head Boy. They might not even go for a prefect." Ernie glanced over at Harry and arched his eyebrows knowingly.

"Aah, but Ernie, you're a leader, too, you've shown it," said Porphyrio enthusiastically.

"Okay, Dad," Ernie said indulgently.

On Sunday morning, Harry and Ernie went for a long run around the area, including running by The Leaky Cauldron to try to see it as muggles see it. But like looking at an optical illusion after you have already seen the trick, they just couldn't force themselves to overlook it the muggle way. They cleaned up afterward and Iphigenia invited Harry to come to church services with them and Harry agreed. He apologized for not having a suit or other appropriate attire, as he had seen his relatives wear when they went to church on Easter.

"Ernie'll loan you a shirt and some slacks," said Porphyrio, "He's just a little bigger than you. Not that anyone'd mind you coming in your jeans, mind you, the point is to be there; but somehow it focuses the mind to take a little time to get ready for church – you're making it something special. And today's a very special day – Iphigenia's singing the anthem."

"Are you?" asked Harry to Iphigenia. "Erm, I hate to admit such ignorance, but I'm not sure what an anthem is, other than the various national songs."

Iphigenia smiled. "That's fine, Harry, don't be embarrassed. In fact, I've noticed your willingness to admit the things you don't know and to ask. It's a splendid trait. As for an anthem, most people have only vague notions of many things associated with church nowadays. An anthem is essentially a dramatic song, but when we use the word in church, we usually mean any song that's sung during the communion or the collection."

"Um, communion?" asked Harry.

"Oh, there's a lot to explain there," said Ernie. "It's a sort of a ritual meal – just a wafer or bit of bread and a sip of wine really – where we affirm our belief in Jesus."

"Oh, okay, I've been learning from Reverend MacBoon about Jesus's teaching about love."

"Well, there's a lot of history and meaning that goes into it all, Harry," said Ernie. "I'll let you know what to do, and you can just listen and learn."

"Sounds good," said Harry.

Harry's first church service was a very interesting experience. He loved the stained glass and the candles and lights. The choir was beautiful and the music inspiring. There were books in racks on the backs of the benches, which Ernie called pews. Harry looked in the books. He was fascinated to see how very many songs there were in the hymnal. Then he looked at the Bible and tried to read some of it, but found himself confused by the odd names and strange ways of saying things. Ernie showed him how the Old and New Testaments and the various indexes. Harry looked and found the scripture about love that Cameron had read to him. He commented that it had sounded different before. Ernie explained it was probably a different translation. Then the service started and they all stood. Harry felt like they had to stand up and sit down quite a bit, and didn't understand what the point of that was.

He loved the first song – "O Brother Man" – and memorized the first verse since he didn't know how to follow the music: "O Brother Man, hold to thy heart thy brother; where mercy dwells, the Peace of God is there; To worship rightly is to love each other: Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer." Harry wanted to hang onto those thoughts – they were very comforting. Not so with the second song, which Ernie whispered was a communion preparation song; "Sons of God" - the title was fine, but then they all sang with zest, "Eat his Body, Drink his Blood, and we'll sing a song of love;" it really freaked Harry out. He decided that he had better keep that reaction to himself and ask Cameron about it later.

Ernie told Harry to come with him during communion but not to take the bread or wine because Harry hadn't actually joined a church. As they did so, Harry listened and watched as Iphigenia sang, "Let there be Peace on Earth and Let it Begin with Me." He missed some of the words, but heard the plea for peace – so close, so immediate, so personal. Iphigenia sang it like it was just her personal private statement, and yet it was thrilling and powerful at the same time. Harry remembered Dumbledore saying what a powerful magic music had and started to understand – unlike phoenix song, which had strengthened him so many times when he had needed it, this music worked with the words to make them all the more powerful. When she was done, Ernie reached over and pushed Harry's chin up and Harry realized that he had been standing there with his mouth open. Ernie grinned at him.

"That was brilliant," whispered Harry.

"She'll love knowing you said so," whispered Ernie. "She always says that each person has his own ways to make the world a better place, and singing is one of hers. But then she worries that she's not really adding much to happiness with her singing."

"How could anyone think that? Doesn't she appreciate how wonderful she sings?"

"Y'know, Harry, there're a lot of people who never really appreciate that they are doing excellent things. And a lot of others who think they're a lot better at things than they are."

That afternoon, they went to an Indian restaurant and ordered several types of dishes: curries, tandoori, saffron rice and other things. Harry had never had such food before, at least not fresh. When he was growing up, sometimes the Dursleys would have leftovers for him when they had gone out, and they would give them to him all mashed together in a folded cardboard container. Being able to taste them separately and fresh made all the difference in the world. Harry told Iphigenia how beautifully she sang, and she smiled graciously and thanked him. Harry felt like he was seeing a dawning sun when she smiled; he even had to catch his breath.

They chattered away for quite some time but generally avoided talking about the war, even after Harry had to run and lock himself in the bathroom to call Remus about additional attacks. When he returned to the table, even though they all knew why he had run to the bathroom, Porphyrio said "Curry'll do that to you if you're not used to it." Iphigenia scolded him lovingly, but laughed along with the men. Harry had a genuine touch of sadness when it came time to return to Privet Drive, but he was grateful for the opportunity to spend some time with such a happy family.


	11. Marge Will Be Marge

Chapter 11 Marge Will Be Marge

The next week continued much the same as the previous one had been. At least once a day, sometimes as many as four, Harry had to call Remus to send out aurors. He learned that additional forces were being added - not aurors, since training would take too long, but sorcerers capable of holding their own in a wizard fight and most importantly willing to do so. Many of them were unable to do the Patronus Charm, so they always had to be paired with a witch or wizard who could, since most attacks included dementors. Harry got the impression that they were being stretched very thin. The goblins of Gringotts had taken to patrolling Diagon Alley at night and where there were shadows and Knockturn Alley all the time (it was always a shady place, in more ways than one). The twins and their friend Lee Jordan, who had returned from a year's post-school traveling and decided to work with them now that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was well-established, would take turns patrolling Diagon Alley in the sunny times. They were often joined by sorcerers who had moved to Diagon Alley from their more isolated homes in the countryside. Diagon Alley had become recognized as the safest place to be, so apartment space was being taken up quickly. That meant leaving businesses unattended, although many used magically expanded spaces in their apartments in Diagon Alley to move their business equipment in. Still, people did not like being away from their homes and not every sorcerer was made for living so close to others. After all, that was why they had chosen homes away from most others - sorcerers tended to be idiosyncratic, downright queer in fact.

"Remus," asked Harry after teams had been sent out on one occasion, "The McMillans have cut themselves off from the Floo Network. Are many others doing that?"

"I'm afraid so, Harry. It's understandable, but it's making responses more difficult. Not many wizards can apparate the distances and with the accuracy you can. Especially the auxiliaries are people who had previously relied on the Floo Network to go long distances. Without being able to use that, they are often having to apparate 5 or 10 or even twenty times to get to the more distant sites. An extra 2-5 minutes has made the difference between life and death in several instances. We're now trying to assign teams according to transportation concerns."

"Hasn't this been explained to those who are dropping off the system?" asked Harry.

"Of course it has, but Harry, you haven't seen the level of panic out there. Most people know that they couldn't possibly defend themselves against either a dementor or a Death Eater. You have to understand that most people didn't bother to learn fighting skills while they were at Hogwarts, and even fewer learned them afterwards. In olden days, wizards dueling and battling was common enough that every sorcerer would learn to do so, just as every muggle would learn to use a sword or other weapon. But now people have gotten used to the idea that the Ministry is supposed to handle the occasional rogues and criminals. Of course, under normal circumstances it could, but with a vigorous terror campaign of sneak attacks, the Ministry is doing all it can to respond, and is only possibly doing so because you are giving us the advance information."

"Can't people learn to defend themselves now?" asked Harry.

"Many are starting to, but the attacks only started a few weeks ago. It took the DA students months to become competent and they had the best teacher around."

Harry smiled modestly. "Oh, I don't know about that."

"Well, I do," responded Remus seriously and earnestly. "I had a chance this weekend to be with the Weasleys and asked Ron and Ginny and the twins to show me what they could do. I was truly amazed, Harry. They are all fighting at auror-level and beyond. I'm no slouch – we Marauders got into our scrapes and had to know ways to get out of them - and any one of them could take three of me. None of them had any doubt that the reason they had done so well was you."

"Wow, I had no idea."

"Well, get used to it: a special training school is being set up for the auxiliaries and as a refresher for the aurors. Mrs. Longbottom is coming out of retirement to head it, but she insisted on having you coaching as well, at least part of the time. She said she had never seen someone who could build practical skills so quickly."

"Wow, I'm honored. Well, I've said I would do what I can. When do I go?"

"We'll let you know, probably after this coming weekend. We may bring in as many of the DA team leaders as well to give them a head start on next year."

"Right, then - no pressure, eh?"

Remus smiled. "None at all."

On Friday evening before Harry and Dudley were to get ready to box, Harry came down the stairs to get a box off a high shelf for Petunia. He had tucked his wands and his decoy drumsticks into the rear waistband of his jeans. He passed by Marge, who couldn't allow herself to pass by the opportunity to harass Harry. She started in on how slovenly and thuggish he looked. When he smiled benignly at her as he passed to get the box down, she grabbed the wands and drumsticks and began a tirade about how drummers in general and popular band drummers in particular are all drug addicts and thugs and Harry shouldn't be allowed to participate in such activities.

Harry felt his anger erupting within him and nearly used either Accio or Expelliarmus charms to retrieve the wands. However, he realized quickly that this would require a visit from a ministry wizard to modify her memory. So long as the wands were not being damaged, Harry could control himself and act only if he had to. Marge was ranting as she waved the sticks and wands. This drew Vernon into the room as well.

Just as Marge was threatening to throw the sticks in the yard for Ripper to chase (unlikely, thought Harry, as the dog had gotten so old and fat, he barely waddled), she waved them as if she were throwing them. Suddenly one of the wands erupted in an enormous blast of sparks and flame, singeing most of Ripper's hair off and melting the foam insert of Ripper's bed. Finally something had made Marge be quiet.

"Ah, um, erm, ah, um, Harry Potter!" said his uncle in great but feigned anger as he took the wands and sticks from his stunned sister. "You and your band equipment! I thought you had strict instructions to keep the pyrotechnic drumstick locked up until you were to use it in a show."

"What?" said Harry, then catching on. "Oh, erm, I had just been checking the firing mechanism when Aunt Petunia called me. I obviously forgot to put it away before I came to help."

"Well, take it then, and lock it up straight away. We don't want any more accidents, do we?"

"No, sir, Uncle Vernon."

Harry took the wands upstairs and stayed there until time for boxing. When he thought about Marge taking his wands, he found himself getting very angry indeed. Even not knowing how special his wands are to him, she had violated his personal property when he had it on him. This was very offensive indeed. But he also found himself feeling sorry for Aunt Marge, for the misery that must be inside her to be so belligerent and hateful, of the fear she must live with to be so judgmental. He also felt sorry for Ripper, who had only been mean because he had been taught to be so, and who was now nearly bald because of his owner's ignorance.


	12. The Lovegoods

Chapter 12 The Lovegoods

After Friday's boxing, again interrupted by Marge's verbal abuse, which was by now seeming comical to Harry, Harry again got his things together to visit a friend and Uncle Vernon drove him away from the house so he could apparate. This weekend he was going to visit Luna Lovegood and her father. He had hoped when it was arranged that they would be able to get together with Ron and Ginny, since the Lovegoods lived so near The Burrow, but all the Weasleys were either staying at Grimmauld Place with Molly and Arthur or in Diagon Alley with the twins. Harry apparated to the Lovegood kitchen where he found Mr. Lovegood with a mug of tea sitting at the butcher block table that they both prepared and ate food on.

"Harry, it's good to see you again," exclaimed Mr. Lovegood. "How are things?"

"Oddly, Mr. Lovegood, pretty good," replied Harry, "I mean, I keep training like I'm going to fight with Voldemort (Mr. Lovegood flinched) at any time, I'm getting frequent stabbing pains in this scar telling me of each decision to try to kill more people, and I'm concerned that wizard society is going to fall apart from this terror campaign. But for some reason, I have been getting an ever more positive outlook."

"That's wonderful, Harry. If you're going to be involved in a fight, it's best to have a notion that you are fighting for something."

"Maybe that's it - I'm learning to appreciate people more, and as I do, I have more of a sense of the fight being worthwhile."

"Say, I was hoping that maybe you could write a couple more articles: something about people letting fear get the best of them, and maybe an insider's view of the Battle of Gringotts? The Daily Prophet reported about it, but I'd like a more personal account. And anything with your name on it really boosts sales of The Quibbler."

"Well, the first one's okay, I reckon; after all, you've done my friends and me some favors getting things published in the past," said Harry with a smile.

"The favors have been mutual - your articles have added a lot to sales figures. We've been in the black for the past three years, mostly because of the big sales when your name is on a piece."

"As for the battle, I didn't really see much of it."

"Harry, you were right in on the crux of the battle – beating the heliopaths that disabled the goblins."

Harry nodded. "I'm just not too keen on calling that much attention to myself."

"Still a little publicity shy after what the Prophet did to you?"

"Well, a bit, I guess. But I really don't want to hog the credit, either. The goblins did most of the fighting and all the DA who could get there did their part. If we must, I'd rather write about that."

"But people need to know what you've done."

"Everyone who needs to know, knows – especially the goblins. We can say something about Dobby and I disabling the heliopaths, but I'll keep it brief. If you want any more of me in it, we'll talk about the DA's training."

"I'll take what I can get out of you, Harry, but don't tone it down too far – a bit of blood never hurt newspaper sales."

"That is too true. Well, maybe Luna and I can work on something this weekend. She has a fine way with words. Where is she anyway?"

"She's out de-gnoming the garden - perhaps you'd like to help her," said Mr. Lovegood, with an odd smile. "I'll take your things to the spare room you stayed in last year."

Harry went out to the Lovegoods' garden to find Luna singing an Abba song at the top of her lungs. "Um, Luna, I thought you were de-gnoming the garden?"

She stopped singing. "Oh, hi Harry. Yes, I am."

"At The Burrow we always grabbed them by the feet, swung 'em until they were dizzy and flung them over the fence."

Luna wrinkled her nose. "This works better. They hate Abba. I can chase them all away further and faster this way. And it's more humane."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "I'm not so sure about that. Do you reckon they're about gone?"

"For now. They'll stay away for several days. Did you have a good trip?"

"What else? I love apparating."

"Ah, yes, that's right. You're doing that now, aren't you?"

"When I can. Are you looking forward to it as much as I was?"

She frowned. "Well, of course I'd like to master it, but I see so many people who have trouble with it. My father can only manage short distances without carrying anything. He's even left his clothes behind when trying to practice."

Harry laughed. "I'm glad that hasn't happened to me. They say it's got a lot to do with how well you take to flying. I think the only flying I've ever seen you do is on a thestral."

"That'd be fun to do again, you know, under better circumstances. I visited with Hagrid several times last year and I'm starting to appreciate what he means about 'innerestin' creatures' – although I think it helps to have a giant's hide to deal with some of them."

"Yeah, Hagrid's heart is in the right place. He sometimes doesn't appreciate that he's a bit different than the rest of us."

"Not that there's anything wrong with being a bit different, hmm, Harry?"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," said Harry, a bit chagrined. Then he looked sidelong at her. "Are we talking about you or me?"

"Doesn't really matter, does it?' said Luna, with an airy smile. "We're all different in our own ways. Take the most typical-seeming or average person you can find – there'll be something that makes them a bit different. One of the best things about the magical world is that our powers allow us to express our differences. I feel sorry for the old line families and those who are so hung up on 'pureblood' – they all think they have to be just this one particular way and they stifle their uniqueness. It's no wonder so many turn out so nasty – they have no other way to express themselves."

"You're doing it to me again," said Harry with a little smile.

"What's that, Harry?" asked Luna.

"You got me to see those hung up on 'blood' as victims locked in a cultural box they don't know how to escape from. Every time we speak you give me insights into things that I really need to know. You don't seem to be trying even," said Harry.

"I can assure you I'm not trying to do anything, except …" she paused and thought a second, twiddling her kumquat earrings, "I talk more around you than I do around most people. You don't make fun of me. You're open to people being different. It's very nice to be able to let things out without people sneering and walking away. Hagrid's good that way, too."

Harry looked down and said, "I have to confess there are plenty of times I've found you very odd, dotty even."

Luna laughed to the stars. "Well, of course, I'd be disappointed in both of us if you didn't. It's not that you don't think about what I'm saying, and I certainly recognize I'm not on the same wavelength as everyone else. You'd have to have an opinion. But you don't put me down for it, and you've kept me as a friend. Ginny's been good that way, too."

Harry felt a pang at the mention of Ginny, like he didn't want the intrusion of thinking about her while he was here with Luna. He made a mental note to think about that feeling later.

"So, Harry, have you eaten yet?"

"Ahh, no, I haven't."

"Then help me put dinner on the table. We were just going to have raw fruits and vegetables, cold meat and cheese, and if you'd like, I'm pretty good at making fresh bread with magic – I could have some done by the time you got the table set."

"What more does a person need?" replied Harry rhetorically.

"Truly," said Luna, leading him in the side door.

On Saturday after their workout and defense practice, Harry and Luna were at the kitchen table working on what to put in an article about reaction to the war for The Quibbler when Harry heard Professor Dumbledore's voice calling from the mirror.

"Yes, Professor," said Harry. "Good to see you. It's been awhile."

"Remus has been doing such a thorough job informing me of what you tell him, and you have been doing such a thorough job informing him of everything that there has been no need. But as what I am calling about affects many of my students, I preferred to make this call myself."

"I take it this has to do with the training sessions I heard about," said Harry.

"Yes, it does. Is Miss Lovegood with you there?" asked Dumbledore

"Right here, Headmaster," she called out.

"Good. In discussing the plans to work with the aurors, it was suggested that we bring in the team leaders for next year's DA, so that we can get a head start on that work. Any interest?"

Harry smiled. "I think I'll pass."

Dumbledore chuckled and winked. "I wasn't really asking you, Harry. We both know you're committed for the duration."

Luna spoke up. "Then is my commitment being questioned?"

"Not at all, Miss Lovegood. You have been exemplary, but I prefer to at least follow the protocol of an invitation."

"But wouldn't we students be hindering the training of the aurors?"

"Actually, most of you in a head-to-head battle are more than a match for the aurors. They exceed you in other special skills of their vocation, but as fighters, they need the practice more than you."

"Interesting. I'm concerned about leaving my father here, though. He would be quite vulnerable to an attack. He can use the Patronus Charm, but to do so while fighting a wizard would be another matter."

"Is he available?"

"Yes."

"Then please ask him in and we'll discuss the matter together."

Luna left to get her father. While she was gone, Dumbledore asked Harry, "How about the scar - of course, I know you are learning about the attacks. Have you been learning anything else through it?"

"Perhaps." said Harry, "I've been noticing that when I practice new spells, the wand motions and the pronunciations are coming too easily. You know how you can see a pronunciation key in a dictionary and you slowly sound it out, and then practice it until it flows like a word you are used to using? I'll see the name of a new spell and pronounce it before checking the pronunciation guide and I will have it correct already, even nuanced. Same thing for the wand motion – I see the diagram and that is enough, without even reading the commentary. When I've tried the spells out on the weekends I'm with wizards, I find that I am performing them perfectly."

Dumbledore nodded his head thoughtfully. "The divide between the minds is breaking down. You are gaining access to Voldemort's knowledge, and presumably he could gain access to yours, although other than seeing what we are up to, the only things you know that he does not are friendship, love and trust. He would have little interest in that. Have you found yourself moody or irritable?"

"Quite the contrary, Professor. Even with my Aunt Marge, who used to really make me blow up …"

"And vice versa?"

"Yes sir," Harry said with a grin. "I am finding patience and understanding. Once or twice she's gotten to me, but it has taken more than it would previously have. I am cheerful, despite my concern over the war. I am no less serious about preparations or fighting – if anything I've been working harder. But I'm not getting angry and depressed, and I even have been getting fewer visions of death and destruction."

"I believe that would be the result of your sessions with Reverend MacBoon. But let's not forget that your scar is an open portal in both directions, and either of you may exploit it either purposefully or in times of crisis. We have been making use of a small portion of the opportunities, but there are great dangers there as well."

"Possession?"

"Perhaps that, Harry, although even at the Ministry, from what you have told me, he was only able to take control of your body – your personality and soul remained quite distinct. Let's keep working on the emotional maturity that you have been developing."

"Yes, Professor," replied Harry. Just then Luna and Mr. Lovegood came in. "Ah, the Lovegoods are here, Professor."

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore. So good to see you again."

"Yes, Adrian, it's good to see you again as well, especially in these trying times."

"Of course, Luna was just telling me her concerns."

"I cannot say they are idle, either, Adrian. You are triply a target, for being the father of a witch who has fought Voldemort's forces, for being the publisher of articles which have helped rally the magical world against him, and for being a wizard Harry is quite fond of."

"Are you now, Harry? I thought you might just be acting politely," he smiled at Harry, who smiled warmly back. "Well, then Professor, do you advise me to go on the lam?"

"Not exactly, but I would recommend moving for the duration to Diagon Alley. The Weasley twins have been expanding their premises. Originally they were going to house production facilities in the extra space, but they are making alternate arrangements for that. The extra space is being made available fairly reasonably for sorcerers seeking more secure accommodations. As I understand your operations, as long as you can send and receive owls, you can continue publishing The Quibbler."

"That's true, Albus. Of course, the printing is done on Practic Alley – that's the industrial district connected to Diagon Alley, Harry – so the location would actually be more convenient for me. We have always simply liked the bucolic surroundings here."

"And why not, Adrian, but we are all bearing some hardship, and all of us would like to see you and The Quibbler make it through the war intact. And knowing you are in more secure accommodations would make it easier for both your daughter and Harry to fulfill the duties that they have undertaken."

Mr. Lovegood turned to Luna and Harry, "Is that so?" They nodded earnestly. "Well, then, I suppose I could endure a change of venue."

"Adrian, I will see to it that the Weasleys' house elf, who is maintaining The Burrow in their absence, is instructed to keep your house neat and secure as well."

"Thank you, Albus. That was another concern I had."

"I would like to have the two of them at the training facility tomorrow evening. Can you be ready to go by then?"

"Of course, Albus. I live a simple life. Well, simpler than most wizards. A couple of grips should do me. What else I might need I can buy or borrow. I've quite a few friends who've made the same move in the past month."

Professor Dumbledore smiled sadly. "It's good to see so many pulling together, though too many are pulling away. I only wish we could find grounds for cooperation when we weren't faced with life-or-death matters."

"Indeed. Well, I'll let you talk to the young-uns about their arrangements while I go set my things in order."

"Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, "the training camp is at Longbottom Manor. They will be prepared to receive you anytime after 5 p.m. tomorrow. You can apparate to the entry hall, where the house elves will show you your way. Miss Lovegood, either Harry can apparate you there or you can use the Floo network. Take all the things you will need for the coming school year. With the war on, there may not be an opportunity for you to get back to your house before then."

"Yes, Headmaster."

"And Harry, don't worry for now about your things. You will be able to get back to your aunt and uncle's house. I have also already notified your relatives that your disciplinary boot camp has been extended for the entire week. Keep in touch, Harry."

"I will, Professor."

"Disciplinary boot camp?" asked Luna, after they had said their good-byes to Dumbledore.

"My uncle's sister believes I'm a serious juvenile delinquent. My cover story for getting away on the weekends is that I am at a boot camp being whipped into shape."

"Why did you have to tell her all that?"

"You know my relatives used to hate me, or at least resent magic, right? Well, they kept pushing the idea I was a bad egg, and then made up a story when I went to Hogwarts about a residential school for evil thugs like me. Now they accept that I'm a wizard, but they can't really explain the change in attitude to my uncle's sister, not without letting on about the whole magic thing. So we're kind of stuck in the whole story."

Luna giggled at the whole predicament. "I never knew it could be so difficult to have muggle relatives. The muggles around here just think we're very odd." She laughed and added wryly, "Can you imagine that?"

That evening over dinner, they talked over all their plans and how they would keep in touch. Luna's father suggested additions and changes to the article Harry and Luna had been writing together. After dinner, Luna wrote an additional article for The Quibbler about people moving to Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley for mutual security. While she was writing that, Harry and Mr. Lovegood sat out on the porch. Harry asked about Mrs. Lovegood and what Luna was like as a little child. It of course took little for a fond father to launch into all manner of stories about his beloved child.

After a while Mr. Lovegood got kind of quiet, and then said to Harry, "I know you've got a lot on your shoulders, Harry, but would it be too much for me to ask that you keep her safe? She's all I have that matters to me."

Harry's eyes got moist. "I understand, Mr. Lovegood. As long as you realize all the things I'm expected to tend to, then you can accept my assurance that I'm doing everything I can to see that she and all the other students make it through the war. And I'll put a bit extra into Luna's safety – she's very special to me, too."

"But you won't be keeping me out of the action, either, Harry Potter!" interrupted Luna, coming through the screen door where she obviously had been listening. "Dad, I know you love me, and I love you too, but I've been training to defend myself and those I care for, and I'll not hide behind the others and let them risk their necks without me beside them."

Harry had never heard Luna so focused and direct. Mr. Lovegood just smiled benignly and stood up. He kissed Luna on the forehead. "You can't blame a father for wanting his angel to be safe, sweetheart. I'd better head in and leave the night to you two youngsters."

Luna stomped to the post holding up the overhang and leaned against it. "Ooh, he makes me so mad doing that."

Harry smiled. "Luna, I don't think I've ever seen you upset before."

"Parents have a knack for it. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to call attention to … but he makes me so mad sometimes!"

"He's just worried about you."

"What? Oh, not that." Luna regained her usual demeanour and laughed uproariously. "Oh, it's not that. I was just putting on a bit of a show so he wouldn't coddle me too much. No, I'm upset because he's trying to fix us up."

"Huh?" said Harry, as clueless as one can be.

"Fix us up, you troll. He wants us to date. He'd like for the great Harry Potter to eventually be his son-in-law."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I wish I was."

"And that would be awful because …"

Luna laughed. "Here's the part where I'm supposed to tease you about thinking that you're the finest 'catch' in the world and say that you're too full of yourself, all the while avoiding the question of whether I would be interested or not. But you're not like that and neither am I. You're a wonderful fellow, in spite of the things you've done. And I don't care to lie to you – of course I have considered what it would be like for you to be my boyfriend."

"Oh, you have, have you? And what is the result?" said Harry, with a smirk.

"Oh, I'd give you a chance, but I'm not about to throw myself at you. I know you enough not to be bowled over by your resume', like some girls would be. But I don't know you well enough to say whether I'd want to be more than friends."

"The honesty is refreshing. Too often girls seem to want to play games," said Harry.

"Sometimes that's just to put boys off who just want to play around," said Luna.

"Goes both ways, huh?"

"Yeah, but the hurt comes in when you get someone who is honest meeting someone who plays people. And the players don't even understand that there could be honest people."

Harry looked at her and she looked back at him. "I can't tell you," he said, "how hard it is for me to suppress legilemency right now. I so want to know how that mind of yours works. You can be so insightful at times and then an utter goose at others."

"I admire that you resist it. There's something kind of obscene about looking into another person's mind, kind of like peeping through a bathroom keyhole or something. There are the glimpses of ourselves that we offer, like a girl wearing a scoop neckline, and those that we don't, and each person should have the right to choose."

Harry stood for a minute thinking about what she had said, when suddenly his scar began hurting severely. "I've got to speak to Professor Lupin. I'll be back," he said hurriedly as he ran in the door to the spare bedroom.

When he was done, he came back out to the parlor and found that Luna had come inside and gotten a fire going in the fireplace and was sitting in an easy chair, watching the flames. Harry pulled up a rocker and sat a couple feet from her.

"Business attended to?" Luna asked.

"Yeah."

Luna nodded for a few seconds, then asked, "Why do you do it?"

"What?"

"Reading his mind to raise the alarm, training the DA, all of it."

"Shouldn't I?"

"I'm just asking. I'm curious." She looked at him and gave him a smile. "Can you shut off the warnings? If you could, would you?"

"Well, I don't think I could shut them off. I guess I've never particularly tried, so I can't prove it one way or the other. If I don't report them, people would die."

"What is that to you?" she asked quietly.

"They're … people. Why wouldn't I care?"

"You don't know them, well, very few of them."

"But they're people. And, if more people were dying, then society would fall apart even faster than it has been."

"And you can control that?"

"I can help fight it," said Harry.

"Why?"

Harry's head was swimming. "Well, if we don't hold together, then we won't be able to resist. I might go first, but eventually we would all fall."

"So it's just to protect yourself, to have more allies. And the DA as well? Just a way of making allies?"

"Why are you asking all this? Are you saying it's wrong to try to help protect people and help them protect themselves?"

"I'm just asking. Harry, you're getting too upset. You've never thought about the why of all this. You've been led by both your enemies and your friends. But you've never figured it out for yourself. Take some time now. Nothing's happening. Professor Lupin will take care of the threats. Let your mind grapple with the why of what you do, the whole 'people-saving' thing."

They sat and looked at the fire a long time. Every so often Luna would put a couple more logs on the fire. She said she didn't mind lighting a fire with magic, but she preferred a real fire. Harry worked on all the possible reasons and sorting out which ones really mattered to him and which were just excuses or makeweights. The fire died down low when Harry decided he knew the answer. Luna had fallen asleep with her arms across the armrests. Harry gently grasped her forearm and gave her a gentle shake.

"Luna? I think I know."

"What, hmm? Oh, Harry," said Luna.

"I said I think I know – why I do the 'people-saving' thing," Harry said gently.

"Oh, yeah," she said yawning. "What did you decide?"

"Down deep, I just feel that every person is very special and deserves a chance at a full, happy life."

Luna stood up, stretched, and then bent down toward him. She placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a sweet innocent kiss on his cheek. "I know, Harry. I knew that all along. But you needed to find that answer for yourself. Helping people is what you do because you really do care for people. It's beautiful. Good night now."


	13. Longbottom Manor Revisited

Chapter 13 – Longbottom Manor Transformed

When Harry had visited Neville the previous year, Longbottom Manor had been stale, stodgy, and placid. This year, with over two dozen young aurors, three dozen auxiliaries and four dozen Defense Association team leaders, the place was tense, confusing and vibrant. There was the wartime energy of preparing for action and the anxiety of not knowing when some danger might suddenly erupt. Not that anyone felt that an attack here was likely. For one thing, the premises were known to be covered by numerous protective charms. For another, the Death Eaters had stuck to sneak attacks so far, preferring to spread fear, anger and suspicion to erode wizard society rather than make a dangerous frontal assault.

Nonetheless, all the aurors and auxiliaries had already seen plenty of action responding to the hit squads. There were barely over a hundred aurors in all of Britain, more than enough for normal times, but these were not normal times. The auxiliaries numbered perhaps 120, not including members of the Order of the Phoenix, who pitched in on occasion as well. They were stretched thin and many of them showed their lack of seasoning. Several had been hexed, but no permanent injuries had occurred. All of the aurors were to spend at least some time at the camp sharpening skills, but many had to be kept stationed around Britain. The entire auror corps and the auxiliaries had taken to regular applications of murtlap essence, which helped to protect against most hexes. Since murtlap essence in excess quantities causes purple hair to sprout around the ears, those younger sorcerers who overdid the protective murtlap were easily identified. Of course, as with any such group, a nickname quickly arose among them for the condition – "lavender-lulus" they were called by the more experienced aurors.

Quite a number of the auxiliaries and young aurors had experienced narrow scrapes because they were weak on their patronus charms. It had not been considered a critical auror skill when the dementors were allied with the Ministry, so tenuous patronuses were accepted. Now a truly corporeal patronus was a necessity. This was to be a major part of Harry's assignment.

Harry made sure that Luna and her father were off safely by the Floo Network. Then he stopped in at The Burrow for a brief visit with Winky so he could report to the Weasleys about the condition of their elf and home. Winky gave him a frayed stuffed dragon that Ginny had asked about. Neither Winky nor any of the Weasleys who were capable of traveling to and from The Burrow safely had the time to retrieve it, not just for a stuffed animal. In fact, Ginny had not even asked for it to be sent, but had only added a note in an owl to Winky about other things. However, with Harry available to carry it, Winky took it upon herself to send it along. She was not going to take any chances about displeasing her new family.

Harry thought he was being very clever apparating directly to the room he had stayed in the summer before. However, it turned out that this was one of the three rooms which had been turned into women's dorms. As he arrived just before dinnertime Sunday evening, most of the women were changing from travel clothes to get ready for dinner and the evening. As soon as they heard the pop, 10 heads turned. Harry heard various calls "Coach," "Potter," "Harry!" Despite the surprise, none of them sounded particularly perturbed.

Harry set his things down, covered his eyes and said, "Sorry, this is where I stayed last year."

Tonks grabbed him by the arm. "Yeah, sure, Potter – you were just grabbing the kind of look-see you can't get at Hogwarts. Now get out of here."

She shoved him out the door. A few seconds later his bags were shoved out the door by the Patil sisters, who had thrown on dressing gowns. Harry was almost sure that they had both winked at him as they went back in the room and shut the door.

Harry knocked on the door. "Hey, wait; you have my owl, too."

Susan Bones called through the door, "She's too cute for you. We're keeping her for awhile."

Then Harry heard giggling. "Right, then," he thought. "Hedwig will be well-attended to for the time being. It'll be easier to get situated and then come back for her." He walked down to Neville's room and knocked. Neville opened the door.

"No need to knock, Harry, this'll be your room, too."

Harry walked in and was greeted by Ron, the Creeveys, Justin Finch-Flechley, Ted Nott, and three young aurors he did not know. As he was introduced to them, - Dawkins, Wimbush and Joad - he decided it was a reasonable precaution to use legilemency to try to determine if they were safe, especially after being betrayed by an auror the previous year. He found no problem and resumed suppressing the legilemency.

"Harry," said Ron, "it's good to see you again, mate. I was afraid maybe the muggles wouldn't let you go."

"Dumbledore gave them an excuse. The big problem was my Aunt Marge. She doesn't know about sorcery and the whole family's quite afraid of her."

"Why'ncha just change her into an ottoman or something, at least for the time being?" said Dawkins, one of the young aurors.

"Now that's a thought, changing her into something," said Harry, with a grin. "Don't think I haven't thought of it before. However, for one thing, I'm still under age, and besides, they still love her even if she's a pain. Besides, I'm finding it useful to learn to deal with people who are a pain rather than just blast them."

"Hmm. We're going to be taught warfare by a pacifist. That sounds useful," mused Dawkins to the other two aurors.

Harry smiled broadly. "Oh, I'll mix it up if I have to, but I don't fancy picking on someone."

Then Wimbush spoke up. "It's good to meetcha in the flesh, Potter. We aurors have been here for nearly a week and began to wonder if there really was a Harry Potter. A bloke can hear so many stories before he doubts a person's for real. Did you really fight – HIM?"

Harry nodded. "It wasn't very long, just until I could grab a portkey and escape."

"It's still more than I want to face him. If I had thought he was coming back, I might not have become an auror. Now, well, I've got the training, and I guess he usually sends others to do his dirty work, and I'll fight them."

Joad added, "I know I wouldn't fancy being the bloke what's got to face him."

"Same here," agreed Harry, then he turned to his friends. "So who's going to show me the set-up and fill me in?"

All the Hogwarts boys had finished changing into clean clothes, so they all went with Harry as a group around the house and grounds showing him all the additions and training areas. A lethifold arena like the one at Hogwarts, but with only a small observation area, had even been set up in the attic so that the trainees could test their patronuses under stress. Dueling was to be practiced between the greenhouses, where Harry and Neville had practiced the year before.

After dinner, Harry stopped by the room where Hedwig was being held hostage - as it seemed to him - and retrieved her. Tonks answered the door and brought Hedwig out in her cage.

"I'm surprised you're here, Tonks," said Harry. "I know you can fight. I've seen it."

"Yeah, well, you also saw me get waxed in the fight. And my patronus is indistinct."

"Really?" said Harry, "Do you know what kind of animal it is even?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "Four legs, smaller than a cow, larger than a squirrel."

Harry laughed. "Well, we'll try to fix you up. Maybe you just haven't found the right happy thought."

"Maybe," said Tonks. "Other trainers have said that I'm too emotional. It makes it hard to focus on just the happy thought."

Harry nodded. "That'll be critical when we throw you to the lethifold – you can't let the fear force you away from your focus."

Tonks shuddered. "Do I really have to face that thing?"

"You don't know if you can do it when you need it if you don't do it when you are scared stupid."

"I understand. It's just that I've seen what those things can do."

"Oh?" said Harry with interest. "Did they have a demonstration with an injured animal like we did last year?"

"Well, yeah, but I was thinking of the pictures of you from last year."

"What?"

"Yeah, thought you knew. Pictures were made showing your wounds. They've been showing 'em in training to make sure we're plenty scared. It works."

"They must have been taken while I was asleep," said Harry. "What'd they get – my legs? They were the worst."

"Yeah, your legs …" Tonks trailed off, but had a silly grin.

"Right, then, Tonks. Give me the whole story."

"Everything but your head. In fact they don't identify it as you, but all of us in the Order had heard about your little mishap, so it wasn't hard to figure out who it was."

"Is there anything left to the imagination?"

"Not really. I mean, I know you're not Jewish, if that's the kind of detail you were concerned about."

"Well, yeah! I'm not an exhibitionist, you know."

"Oh, but you _really_ needn't be ashamed," she said with a wink, "and there're only a few of us who have seen the pictures who know who it is. We're told that the pictures are twenty years old, but a few of us know you're the only survivor of a lethifold."

"Well, fine, whatever I can do to help the cause," groused Harry, turning to go back to his dorm room.

Tonks caught his right arm with her right hand, and popped her chin over his shoulder. "And Harry?" she said.

"Yes, Tonks," he said resignedly.

She stroked his bottom with her left hand and said, "I'm so glad your tight little bum has healed up."

Harry blushed, but wasn't going to give Tonks the satisfaction of seeing him storm off. He stood there for the better part of a minute, held Hedwig's cage with both arms, and waited for her to become embarrassed at standing around stroking his bottom in the hallway of Longbottom Manor.

"Having fun, there, Tonks?"

She stopped and gave him a playful shove. "You're getting better at playing the games, Potter. Be ready for Round 2!"

Later that evening Harry was getting settled into his space in the dorm room. Instead of the four-posters of Hogwarts, there were five bunk beds in each room. Having been among the last to arrive, Harry had to take a top bunk, but he didn't mind. Neville had the bunk below him. When he opened his trunk, he found Ginny's stuffed dragon. He decided this was the perfect excuse to talk to her.

"Hey, Ron," he called. "Which room's Ginny in?"

"You've got Scooter – she'll be glad to see him. Come on, I'll take you there."

Ron and Harry went down the hall to one of the several large bedrooms of the manor house. Ron stopped at one and knocked. Hermione came to the door.

"Hello, Ron, what brings you – oh, and Harry, - here?" she said at first mysteriously and then more matter-of-factly when she noticed Harry.

"Erm, Harry has something for Ginny," said Ron.

"Well, of course, he does – oh, you mean something to give to her. Give it to me, Harry," she said with a patronizing smile. "I'll give it to her."

"No, thanks, Hermione. If she can come for a walk, I'd like to talk with her."

"Well, I'll see." She came back in a minute with Ginny. "Here she is. Ron, how about you? Would you like to … walk, too?"

"I reckon," he said with a twinkle in his eye, and the two of them set off.

"Yes, Harry, you needed something?" said Ginny.

"Well, I brought this," he said, holding up Scooter, "but if you wouldn't mind, I was hoping we could talk?"

"Well, alright. Let me put Scooter on the bed," she said.

When she returned they headed down the hall. At first Harry just talked about this-and-that, catching up on what each had been doing during the summer. When they got to one of the sitting rooms on the first floor, Harry steered her over to a large curtained bay window which had a curved seat all around the edge and curtains that could be pulled across the opening. He motioned for her to go ahead and he followed her, but did not shut the curtains. She sat down, and he stood, pulling at his lip, searching for what to say.

"Harry, if you have something to say, just say it. We've been friends long enough to just talk."

"I wish it were that easy," said Harry, "It's … I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" said Ginny. "I can't think of anything."

Harry rubbed his hands together and flexed them. "Last year, at The Burrow, we were walking in the garden and we started to talk about, well, whether there could be an 'us,' I pulled away, literally ran away, because I had just started having visions of death of those I cared about."

"Dad explained that to me, Harry. I was disappointed, sure. I thought that … well, I understand it was too painful for you to have a relationship. It's very sweet of you to even remember that, but you don't need to apologize."

"There's more to it, Ginny," he said, looking into her eyes. "I pulled away, tried to distance myself emotionally from all the people I cared about. I wasn't angry like the year before, but I know I was distant."

"Okay, but again, I understand and there's nothing to apologize for."

"Let me finish." He turned and looked out the window. "I tried to pull away, but I needed emotional connection. I didn't seek it. It … just happened. And when it did, I couldn't … I didn't want to … stop. I had been kind of giddy with it for quite some time, and for a while now sort of numb. Only just recently did I realize that it was quite unfair to you, to … reject you because I didn't want a relationship, and then go and have one. I know you must be hurt and angry."

"Well, I wasn't. I didn't even know. Was it some sort of a secret?"

"Yes. Only a few people knew. I figured Hermione or Luna would have told you by now."

Ginny pursed her lips. "Well, if you hadn't told them the secret could be told, why would they?"

Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I sort of thought they would feel free to. Because it's over now. It's over forever."

"Did you break up with her? Or did she break up with you?"

Harry sniffed. "She broke up with me. She couldn't handle the danger. And now she's … gone."

"Gone – you mean - Marietta?"

Harry nodded, then began to cry outright. "I'm sorry," he said. "I thought I was over it by now."

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I remember seeing how bereft you were at the Battle of Gringotts, but I just figured that was just a release from the tensions of the battle. I thought you would have reacted the same for anyone."

"I might have. I had just come from holding Melony's lifeless body and finding out she wasn't quite dead and could be resuscitated, and then I came up to street level to find Marietta. But I would have gotten over it better if it had been, well, not the people I'm closest to, but someone else."

"Is that part of why you were so insistent on Ron and I accepting her?"

"Only in the Spring. In the autumn, I was just trying to keep a good team leader."

Ginny peered at him. "So why are you telling me all this?"

"I felt bad about having run from you, and then running right over to someone else."

"When did you strike up this relationship with Marietta?"

"I guess it became a relationship in January; before that really we were just getting to be friends."

"You and I had our little talk in July. Six months is a lot of water under the bridge, especially with all that we have going on in our lives. You didn't betray me or anything. So why would you feel guilty?"

Harry thought about that for a bit. "I suppose you're right," he said hesitatingly. "There was kind of a gap. But," he added, searching his own thoughts, "I've been fretting over this all weekend. It was like waking up when Luna mentioned you."

She looked at him for a minute as he thought. "Harry, are you … trying to see about starting things up between us?"

Harry looked up to the ceiling, and then brought his eyes down toward her and met her gaze. He sat down on the bench opposite her. He took her hands in his and said, "Yes, but this hasn't turned out like I had intended. I didn't want to be so blunt about it, but I began to realize it this summer. I've been feeling regret at running from you."

"You picked a fine time to realize something like that, Potter!" She didn't exactly snap at him, but annoyance was unmistakeable. "So what are you thinking - that you'd just snap your fingers and we'd be a couple?"

"No! I didn't know what to expect. My head only cleared enough this weekend to realize that there was this other issue between us. I knew that I felt awful about it and wanted to talk to you."

"Listen, Harry, thanks for bringing Scooter. And thanks for talking with me. It's more mature than most boys would do. But right now you don't know what you want. You're still grieving for Marietta. You're still in love with her. If she was around, you'd be with her, and I'd be just another one of your pals. I'm not saying never, but I'm not going to be the girl who fills in your time while you get over someone else. I don't want to try to have a romance with someone who's in love with someone else. When you've sorted out what it is you want, and if that includes me, then maybe we'll talk. That is, if I'm not otherwise attached already: I'm not putting my heart on hold for you. For now, please consider me a friend, as I will consider you one – one of my dearest friends. But we can't be a couple, not like this."

Ginny stood up, and put her hand gently on his cheek. He looked up at her sadly.

"Ginny?" he called softly.

She turned back toward him and silently shook her head. Then she walked silently away toward the stairs. Harry leaned against the sill, put his feet up on the bench, and stared out at the night.


	14. Nocturnal Emotions

Chapter 14 Nocturnal Emotions

It was after 10 when Harry headed back to his dorm room. Most of the house had settled down as the day's activities would start very early, most of the adults grudgingly agreeing to the students' practice of a very early morning run. However, when Harry got to the room, he found Ron leaning against the wall outside the door.

"Hi, Ron," Harry called quietly. "Why're you out here?"

Ron startled. Obviously he had dozed off. "Hrm, huh! Harry!" he said cheerfully, and then changed to sternly, "Harry! Ginny came back from your little 'walk' crying. Speaking for her brothers, I want you to know that we don't sit idly by while any bloke upsets her!"

At first taken aback by Ron's tone, Harry started to become amused, and said in mock fear, "Oh, no. I'm being threatened by Ronald Weasley – whatever shall I do?"

"Now, Harry, don't make fun of me, this is serious!"

"I'm sure it is, Ron. But you need to do it right - maybe you'll find it more effective to lean on me with some help – here come the twins. I hate to think what they've been up to. Fred! George!"

"Harry, no, don't call them!"

"You're speaking for all her brothers, right. I'm sure they'll want to add to the intimidation."

"What is it, Harry?" said George.

"I'm afraid something I said to her made Ginny upset, so Ron wants to rough me up a bit. I reckoned you two would want to be in on it."

"You mean like make book?" asked Fred. "We couldn't make anything on that."

"No, no, you two could help him rough me up. You know, wands at twenty paces, or something like that," said Harry.

The twins looked at him, then at Ron, and then at each other, then back at Harry, and burst out laughing.

"Tell you what, Harry," said George. "You two have at it first, and then when you're worn out we'll take what's left of Ron to St. Mungo's"

"Oi, now," said Ron. "I'm not that bad in a fight."

Fred giggled. "Of course, you're not, Ron, if you were fighting someone else. But Harry could take all three of us in a duel while catching a snitch and not break a sweat. Tell you what, Ron; we'll get you off the hook here. Ginny's got six big brothers, but Harry only has one best friend – let us do the brother thing and you do the friend thing, alright?"

While he agreed this made some sort of sense, Ron didn't like how things had gone. "Hrmf! I reckon, but why even bother. It's pretty hard to be protective at this point anyway."

"Oh, no, Ron. You're right. Ginny has brothers and it's our job to weed out the cads," said George.

"You think Harry might be a cad?" asked Fred to George.

"Well, you never can tell," said George. "He's just so cute and he has that disarming boyish charm. He could be a real wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Right, then," said Fred. "Harry Potter, you have upset our little sister – did you overpower her?"

"No," said Harry indignantly.

"Did you deceive her?" Fred went on.

"No."

"Did you pressure her to do things she wasn't keen on?" said George.

"Oh, good one," said Fred..

"No, of course not. We didn't DO anything but talk," said Harry.

"Well, then, did you try to overwhelm her with your fame and fortune?" said George.

"Like she's ever cared about that."

"Well, you know, she did at first, before she found out what a geek you are," said Fred.

"Oh, thanks," said Harry, "You two are just what I needed."

"Well, then," said George, "I think we have a case here of a teenage girl getting emotional because a boy she's long had her eye on has paid her attention. This sounds like a good case for going to bed."

"Listen, Harry," said Fred, "as far as we're concerned, so long as you don't take advantage of her, we'd be pleased to see you two together and we aren't going to make an issue of what you two do on a date, okay?"

"It wasn't a date. We just went for a walk and talked," said Harry.

"You took a girl on a walk after dinner and she came back crying? Sounds like a date to me," said Fred.

"Well that's how Ron's dates seem to go, anyway," said George, "when either of us takes out a girl, she obviously can't be too picky or proud, and she's got a pretty good idea what she's getting into."

"Yeah, you'd better talk to Ron about what it's like to take an interest in a girl who's sensitive and selective. We wouldn't have a clue," said Fred. "And with that, we will bid adieu." Then the twins went to the room they were staying in.

Harry turned to Ron. "So do you want to talk about it, or just posture?"

"Well, I just felt I had to confront you, Harry. I've always been protective of her."

"I actually think that's fine, but you needn't use a belligerent tone. Now, speaking of protectiveness, I'm pretty protective of Hermione – were the twins right, are you making her cry now?"

"I don't mean to. She's just so tetchy at times."

"Yeah, well, it comes with the territory. Girls seem to do a lot of crying when they're dating. At least that's been my experience. So it sounds like the twins are right – you two are dating," said Harry happily, clapping Ron on the shoulder. "Are you actually admitting it to yourselves?"

Just then the door behind Harry opened. They turned as they heard Hermione loudly whisper, "Could you hold it down out here?" Then as her head rounded the door, she said, "Oh, Harry. Hi, what's up?" She came out in her dressing gown.

"So Hermione," said Harry with a smirk, "Ron was just telling me the two of you are dating."

"Harry," said Ron, "I don't think I …"

"Oh, he did, did he?" said Hermione with a bemused smile, "he actually called it that, hm?"

"Why?" said Harry, "what was he calling it before? How long have you two been open?"

"Oh, we'd really not admitted it to ourselves until this summer. I suppose if you look back, some of our ways could appear to be flirting – maybe it was. I think what turned it for me was seeing how maturely he faced the Edgecombes after … you know. He didn't have to be there, they were coming to see you. Since then, …, well, we've been writing to each other this summer and then finding ways to be together," said Hermione to Harry, then turning to peer at Ron, "Or are you still trying to say we're just a couple of friends?"

"Hermione," Ron hissed, then squaring up, "No, Harry, she's right. I'm not keen on putting it into words, but we've been, uh, seeing each other."

"Mmm," said Harry mischievously. "How much of each other?"

"Harry Potter!" said Hermione, sounding quite like Mrs. Weasley. "I hope you mean 'how frequently' by that question, because any other interpretation is quite beyond being any business of yours!"

Harry grinned. "Things must be going alright then. But I hear he's been making you cry – shall I give him a beating?"

"As IF, Harry," said Ron, with as much humor as indignation.

"I don't think that will be necessary. We girls just tend to be a bit emotional."

"Oh, really?" said Harry, in feigned surprise. "I hadn't noticed." Then he got serious, "Hermione, Ron wants to know how I made Ginny cry. I'll need your help to make a clean breast of things."

"Breast!" said Ron heatedly. "Don't go talking about breasts and my sister!"

"He means," said Hermione, exasperatedly, "he wants to clear the air about some things, Ron. Honestly!"

"Oh, yeah, right," said Ron sheepishly, "there's just certain words that, uh, never mind – what's to clear up, Harry?"

"Okay, well the first thing is really none of your business, but you need to know for the rest to make sense – last summer Ginny was suggesting that she and I become a couple."

"Yeah, okay, I'm not surprised. She can be pretty straightforward about things," said Ron.

"Okay, then, you also know that I was distant from everyone, so I turned her down," said Harry.

"I remember seeing her upset after your first visit last year, but I figured it was because of the danger building up."

"Well, Ron, that wasn't her only cause for upset."

"Okay, is that all?"

"No, here's the kicker. In late winter and early spring, I found myself in a relationship with Marietta. Hold on – let me finish! You didn't know because she was insistent on keeping it a secret, especially from certain original DA members who had not well accepted her. She also didn't want to be known as Harry Potter's girl. She broke up with me because she couldn't take the danger that surrounds me. I believe she took the position at the gargoyle in the battle because she wanted to prove she could face danger – I don't know if she was proving it to me or to herself – who can say?"

"She did beautifully in the end," said Ron nodding. "That must have been rough on you. So you opened up to Ginny about that, and that set her off."

"Well, when she left me, she seemed just annoyed, maybe angry."

"The step from anger to tears is very small, Harry, particularly in teenage girls," said Hermione. "Trust me on that."

"I'll second that," said Ron, a little too enthusiastically for Hermione's liking. "Okay, I can see all that. But why did you need Hermione here?"

"Well, first, just in case you got mad. And second, in case you needed any of this confirmed."

Ron got red in the face. "You … you KNEW about all this, Hermione, and didn't let on? How could you keep this from me?"

"Ron, I promised. Harry needed someone to confide in. You've told me some things you wouldn't want me to share with Harry. How could you trust me with those things if I had betrayed Harry's confidences?"

"But, you kept secrets … from me! I thought we were being open!"

"Ron, I'm keeping no secrets that concern you or me. I kept Harry's confidences because he desperately needed a friend who could accept Marietta as his girlfriend."

Ron frowned and then nodded. "Of course, you're right, Hermione. You're a real friend when a friend is needed. That's one of the things I lo-," he caught himself and coughed, "erm, _like_ so much about you."

She looked cockeyed at him and then said, "You should be grateful to Marietta, actually, Ron."

"How's that?"

"Harry's not in the shell he built for himself last year. He's opening back up to us. Letting us be his friend. He was talking openly at dinner and now he's coming to us for emotional and romantic advice."

"Yeah, I like that a lot better, Harry. But so, why would that upset Ginny?"

"Ron!" said Hermione, with bemused exasperation. "How did you ever get a girlfriend?"

"I think she's a stalker, actually, and I just gave up. So how 'bout you explain it to me."

"Even if she wasn't still interested in Harry, it hurts to know he's been with someone else!"

"What? Like I'm staked out territory?" interrupted Harry.

"Well, you could put it that way,' she replied.

"If we even talked that way about girls, we'd be given no end of grief."

"Yes, you would. What's your point?"

"Well, Hermione," said Harry, "How can it be right for a girl to act the very way she blasts us boys for?"

"I didn't say it was 'right.' I described her perception. Honestly, you're both such trolls! You're thinking logically, not emotionally. When a girl admits to herself that she fancies someone, it feels to her like she's invested some of herself in him. Then if anyone else steps in, it's violating that little bit of her."

"But Hermione, we didn't talk last summer as if we might consider being a couple more than 2 or 3 minutes. How does that give her proprietary rights?"

"Well, maybe not proprietary, but a girl's interests are not going to just flit around, like a bee visiting flowers. Well, not a decent girl, like Ginny." Then she glared at Ron again, "Some girls have to be patient with a boy for years." Ron was taken aback by the sudden attention. Then Hermione continued with Harry, "Of course, you know she's dated several boys, but those were really very light relationships. Besides, I don't think she's given up on you."

"Well, that's kind of what she told me. She doesn't think I'm over Marietta yet, and thinks I need to be before I pursue a relationship with anyone else."

"So, Harry, is she right? Are you not over Marietta yet?"

"I don't brood over her, but when I was telling Ginny about her I started to … get emotional."

"Sounds like something you need to talk out, Harry, but I'm not so sure I'm the best one for that. I've never lost anyone very close to me. Is there someone older you can talk to?"

"Hmm, who's here? Tonks, the twins- I don't think so. Mrs. Longbottom – this isn't something I can talk with her about. Moody? – no. I could use the mirror to talk to Remus or Dumbledore, but they're awfully busy."

"Harry Potter, you are not going back to a go-it-alone attitude. Dumbledore made sure that mirror was repaired so you could tell him what was up, and your emotional pain is just as much a concern to him as your scar pain – you call him tonight!"

Harry grinned and winked at her, saying, "Yes, Maam."

"Oh, you! Just because I'm the one to give you a kick in the pants occasionally, doesn't mean I'm your Mummy."

"I know. And you're right. I need to let Dumbledore know what's going on," said Harry smiling, "Thanks, Ron, I really needed this talk."

"Oh, yeah, sure, Harry anytime, glad I could be of help," said Ron, making a goofy face over how little of it he had been.

Harry went down the hall to find a private place away from the dorms to call Dumbledore. As he turned the corner, he glanced back and saw Hermione and Ron in a lingering goodnight kiss. He couldn't resist calling down the hall, as quietly as he could and still be heard, "Hey, get a room!"

Harry decided the bathroom would be his best bet for a private talk. He didn't want to go downstairs, and on this floor there were people occasionally passing by. Of course, people had to go to the bathroom at times, as well, but with the door locked they should be willing to go either to the first floor or the third. For that matter, if one of the men had the need, he might just go outside instead.

As Harry thought about it, he wondered how the bathrooms of Longbottom Manor would accommodate over 100 people. To his knowledge there were only two bathrooms with bath facilities, and three others with toilet and sink. When he got to the second-floor bathroom, he learned the answer – a magically expanded facility. In fact, going through the door he was familiar with, instead of finding the expected plumbing fixtures, Harry was confronted with two doors – men's to the left, women's to the right. Entering the men's door, Harry was surprised to find a facility every bit as large as the Little Whinging Rec Center locker room. There was a whole row of showers and sinks on the left and a row of toilet stalls and urinals on the right.

It made sense that such a facility would be conjured for the duration, but Harry was left with a dilemma. While he could seal the door, it would be hard to explain to someone wanting to come in, since he could not possibly be using all of any of the fixtures. He decided to sit in one of the toilet stalls and just be alert for anyone coming in. As he entered the stall, he realized that he was in need of it for the more usual reasons. When he was finished (preferring to finish before he spoke to anyone), he remained seated and pulled out the mirror.

He held the mirror close and softly called, "Professor Dumbledore? Professor Dumbledore, are you there?"

Harry waited. It always took a few seconds for someone being called to realize he was being called, pick up the mirror and answer. Harry called again and waited again. There was no answer. Dumbledore must be out or occupied, though Harry. He decided he would try calling Remus instead.

This time Harry spoke a bit louder. "Remus? Remus, are you there?"

Harry was prepared to wait the few seconds, but instead, he heard immediately and almost right next to him, "Harry, is that you?"

The immediate response so startled Harry that he dropped the mirror. He grabbed for it a few times, but it just tumbled through his hands. At the last second, he extended his legs and caught the mirror in the crotch of his pants.

"Is everything okay in there?" Remus voice was right outside the stall.

Harry caught his breath. His heart was still pounding. "Remus, I was just calling you on the mirror. You almost gave me a heart attack. I didn't expect you to respond so quickly or so … near. I thought I was the only one in here."

"Oh, you must have entered as I was drying off in the shower stall. I was listening to music with headphones on so I didn't hear you enter."

Harry picked up the mirror, got his clothes back in order, and came out. He smiled. "Good to see you, Remus."

Lupin was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. Harry looked at his chest and legs and his mouth dropped open.

"What's the matter, Harry? Oh, I get it. You've never seen my scars before. As a werewolf, I often bite myself or push through tight places with sharp edges. By the time I change back the scars have set in. My face is merely haggard – don't deny it, I know it's true – because I can't bite it and even a werewolf avoids pain to his sensitive snout."

"I'm sorry. I should have guessed that you'd have scars, but I had never really thought about it. Erm, well, on the other hand, at least you keep fit."

"Thanks, Harry. Officially I am an Auror Corps Adjunct. It means I have official duties within the Corps, but I'm not a true auror. It does mean that I have to keep up with the aurors' training requirements."

"Well, with the war on, that shouldn't be a hardship."

"No, not at all. Quite the privilege actually."

"I didn't know you were going to be here."

"They figured on getting double-duty out of me. You can communicate attacks to me even easier with me right here, and they figured if I could teach the Patronus to a 13-year-old, I'd probably be useful with that here as well."

"Oh, good, so I'll be your assistant."

Lupin shrugged. "I'm not sure who they consider to be the assistant here. You've taught the Patronus to more people than I have. And of course, you're the Great Harry Potter."

Harry laughed. "Now cut that out. And you'll always be the teacher to me."

"Well, I can teach the techniques, but you'll have to admit you have a knack for bringing out the very best in people's skills. We'll just be partners and work out the details between ourselves."

"Sounds good. I already have a notion they're trying to find other ways to put me to work anyway, so we'll just have to adjust."

"Now there's a healthy attitude. Harry, when I startled you you were trying to call me about something, but it didn't sound like an emergency."

As Remus got dressed, Harry explained to him all about his talk with Ginny and what she had said, and his talk with Ron and Hermione.

"Well," said Remus, "Is Ginny right? Are you still in love with Marietta?"

"I … I'm not sure. It seems wrong to say you're still 'in love' with someone who's dead. But I think about her most days, and I wonder how things could have turned out differently."

"First you mustn't wallow in regrets. I don't know of anything wrong you did, taunting her into foolish risks or the like, and I'll bet you can't think of anything really either. Sure, you could have avoided falling in love, and then she wouldn't have been so daring at the battle, but falling in love is not a bad thing. Sometimes, things just turn out rotten. What I mean is like this: I could regret being friends with Peter in school, but I don't. He was decent at the time, perhaps too much of a follower, but that didn't seem to be such a bad thing at the time. Sometimes, when things got tense and egos were flaring, he was the one that could keep the rest of us Marauders together. He could smooth things over very well. Later he did a number of excellent things for the Order before he turned. So should I live with regrets, Harry?"

"No, how could you know how things would turn out? And I see what you're saying about Marietta: war is tragic and tragic things happen and they are usually out of any particular person's control."

"Exactly. So no regrets. And it's okay that you still love her."

"Is it okay to still feel sad over her?"

"Harry, I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't, even if you weren't as close as you two were. But now, getting back to Ginny and her concerns, tell me something: when you think of being with Ginny, do you sometimes, without trying, substitute Marietta in the scene?"

"How did you know?"

"I've been there. I've lost people and tried to move on before I had dealt with most of my feelings, and the same thing happened with me. And those didn't even involve a loss as sudden as a death. You can't blame Ginny for not wanting to be a part of that. When you make a place in your heart for Ginny, she doesn't want to have to share it."

"So what do I do? Do I just give up on Ginny?"

"For the time being, actually, I'd say yes. Deal with the feelings you have for Marietta, not focusing on doing it for someone else, but because you, Harry, need to address the loss in your life. I remember after Cedric Diggory died, you were very upset over that for a long time, and you weren't nearly as close to him – on a number of levels."

"No, that's for sure, but it was the first death I had seen and understood."

"So – what helped you deal with it?"

"The best thing was to talk it out with someone else who was even closer than I was and who also needed to talk."

"That's excellent. That's the whole purpose of wakes and other death-related socializing – sharing your memories of and feelings for the deceased so that you can move on. You need that. However, I can't do that for you. I can't say I got to know Marietta very well the year I was teaching – just a shy fourteen-year-old girl feeling awkward about herself. Is there anyone else who was close to Marietta you can talk to?"

"Cho Chang was her best friend, and she's here too."

"Great, Harry. Why don't you see about talking privately with her about Marietta? That'll help the healing. Also keep talking with Cameron and me."

"Cameron! I almost forgot. He'll be expecting me tomorrow afternoon at Mrs. Figg's!"

"Harry, you don't think we'd forget that, do you? He'll be coming here. He'll help with a few other organizational chores, but mostly he'll be the training camp chaplain and spiritual advisor. With all these people here facing battles with wizards and dementors, he's just the sort of person we'll need. And of course, time for your work with him is being set aside."

"Well, I feel a lot better now that I've got a plan. I'd better get to bed – 5 a.m. comes too quickly."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Right – tell me about it. See you bright and early."


	15. Down to Business

Chapter 15 Down to Business

It felt right running with a group again. Even the students who had knocked off running at the end of the school year had only missed a little over a month. The aurors had kept in shape anyway and most of the auxiliaries had been working on fitness since they volunteered as well. So although they started when they were ready and stretched out in quite a long thread, with knots of friends running together here or there, there was a fair bit of cohesion and camaraderie, as well as good-natured competitiveness.

After showers, breakfast was served in the great dining hall of the manor. The long formal table had been moved to the side for use as a serving bar as everyone filed by and filled plates. In the rest of the dining hall, round tables seating 10-12 had been set up. Harry noted that Gilly and Gumbo, the 2 Longbottom house elves, were not doing all the work themselves, but had the assistance of three other elves that he saw. He could not remember if he had seen the additional elves at Hogwarts or not. Asking around, he learned thatsome of the wizards or witches here had brought their house elves who would have nothing to do without their people to care for. From Harry's experience with house elves, they would be far happier serving people here than tending an unoccupied house. In any case, Harry was relieved that Gilly and Gumbo would not bear the load entirely themselves.

At breakfast, Mrs. Longbottom, who was in charge of the camp, had Harry sit next to her along with Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody, who had also been asked to come out of retirement to assist in the training. Not only was he amply qualified, but that way as many active aurors as possible were kept on the job. The training camp had been hastily assembled and procedures had yet to be established.

Mrs. Longbottom was to teach dueling skills. Moody was to teach tactics, stealth, and street-smarts: paranoia may have been a problem as a retiree, but it is a virtue for those seeking to apprehend assassins who can blend in with the population. Lupin's job was teaching the Patronus as well as being the dispatch liaison between Harry and the aurors – he and those he reported to had developed a good shorthand system for reporting attacks, so even though Harry was right there, Lupin was better prepared to handle the reports. Harry was to work on the Patronus as needed, then help and train on dueling if there was any time available.

They discussed whether to train the adults and students as separate teams or to have the teams mixed. Moody was concerned that the students would slow the adults, while Harry was concerned the adults would slow the students. Mrs. Longbottom wanted to have them mixed so that each could learn from the strengths and the weaknesses of the other, as each had been trained by very different wizards. Lupin commented how capable he had found the Weasleys who had been training with Harry and suggested that mixing the groups would help the adults' dueling skills. Harry agreed with mixing the groups, observing that the street smarts of those who had gone out on responses would help the students. Moody went along, with the reservation that he be able to revisit the issue if problems developed.

They also required flexible team arrangements because not all of the trainees needed patronus work, but for those that did, it was viewed as the most critical skill. Harry insisted that everyone should be tested in the lethifold pit, even those who had shown a fully corporeal patronus, if they had not used them against a dementor or the lethifold. Moody and Mrs. Longbottom agreed that there was no substitute for testing yourself against a deadly threat and Mrs. Longbottom went further in insisting that everyone there test against the lethifold to make sure no one was rusty. She offered to go first, and Moody volunteered as well.

After they had settled most of the organizational issues, Harry had a chance to look around at the people in the room. He was surprised that he could not find Cho Chang at any of the tables.

"Mrs. Longbottom, I'm certain I saw Cho Chang here yesterday when I arrived, but now she doesn't seem to be here."

"Ah, yes, she was just here to claim a bed and make arrangements for this week. She has a cousin who's getting married this weekend, so she'll only be here during the days for the training sessions this week and be with her family in the evenings and weekend."

"But she will be here full-time next week?"

"That's what she told us, so long as nothing changes."

Moody got an odd creaky smirk. "Sounds like someone's taken a fancy to her."

"What!" Harry said sharply, "No, Professor, really. We liked each other that way a couple of years ago, but that's long over. I have something personal I need to talk over with her."

Moody smirked and nodded his head. "Yeah, sure."

Remus laughed. "I'm still young enough to remember how uncomfortable it is for a young person to be taken for having an attraction to someone he doesn't. I'll vouch for his story, Alastair; he just wants a non-romantic talk. His interest in girls has shifted elsewhere."

"Yeah, he probably thinks so, but when a teenage boy and a teenage girl have a private personal talk, they often find attraction budding as well. We'll see."

Harry wondered to himself how someone he generally liked as much as he did Moody could also make him uneasy and anxious as easily as Moody did.

After all these preliminaries, Harry got a chance to eat and look around the room. He noticed Seamus as the center of attention as he animatedly told some story: from the hand gestures, it was clear he was describing how he and Harry had saved Katherine.

Near the end of breakfast, Cameron MacBoon arrived by Floo network. Harry saw that surprisingly few knew Reverend MacBoon, though virtually all were past or current Hogwarts students. Mrs. Longbottom addressed the trainees after breakfast and explained the procedures. Lists were made of those who only needed to test their patronus and those who needed to work on the corporeal patronus before facing testing. From those lists 9 training teams of 12 members each were designated.

Before they broke up into separate groups, Harry and Remus were each asked to demonstrate their patronuses, both to show how they were done and to reassure the trainees that both knew what they were doing and could stop the lethifold if needed. Harry realized he had never seen Remus's patronus before, and rather expected that it would be a wolf. But the wolf was Lupin's curse, not his protector. Instead, the silvery mist formed into a magnificent golden eagle, with the contours of the feathers clearly visible.

"Awesome, Remus," whispered Harry as Lupin sat back down. "I think that may be the best patronus I've seen anyone produce."

Remus winked. "Are you sure you don't mean 'anyone _else_'?"

"Well, I wouldn't just come right out and say that."

On that first day, Harry and Remus began with testing those who said they already could make a proper patronus. If they tested out, then they could be free to focus on the other skills. They were once interrupted by Harry's scar warnings, so Remus returned the lethifold to its box while Harry jotted down the information. Then while Remus used the Floo network to dispatch squads, Harry helped those whose patronuses were still indistinct. Since the aurors and auxiliaries were only accepted if they could at least make a hazy patronus, Harry was able to work intensively with them to sharpen their patronus. While a few seemed to progress slowly, most were thrilled with the rapid improvement in the definition of their patronus. Only Tonks seemed to be a real hold-out.

During the break before dinner Harry changed quickly so he could speak to Cameron. "I was glad to hear you were going to be here, Cameron," he said when he found Cameron in the library, working on paperwork for the training camp.

Cameron grinned. "What's my job this summer, Harry?"

"Erm, teaching me?"

"It's a lot easier to do that if I am where you are; besides I can also be of use here. Counseling is needed and I can keep records as well as any wizard."

"I guess I'm not used to having my own moral fitness trainer."

Cameron laughed. "I like that description. Many people hire physical fitness trainers – why not have a moral fitness trainer? You seem in a good mood, Harry."

"Dumbledore says it's the work I'm doing with you. I think it also helps to have things to do."

"Well, there's enough of that."

"At least it's just training. Everything done here can be reset to try it again. Hexes can be removed or countered. It's so gut-wrenching when it's for keeps."

"And yet they say that's where you really take the measure of a man, when it's for keeps."

"You said 'they say' – do you think otherwise?"

"It's just not the whole picture. There are many people who are fine human beings, but just can't perform under pressure. Are they lesser people or of less value to our society because they're no good in a battle or in a crisis?"

"I see what you mean. Mr. Weasley has said many times that he has no place in a fight. He was wonderful at the Battle of Gringotts, but then all he did was coordinate placement of people. He didn't have to do any fighting."

"Exactly. Or Neville Longbottom. I've been talking with Mrs. Longbottom about him. From what I hear, he's fierce in a duel, but just can't produce a patronus. Is he unimportant or not a good person because of it?"

"You'll never hear me saying that about Neville. He's a great asset everywhere but fighting dementors." Harry paused a second and then continued, "Cameron, how much do you understand of girls?"

"Hmm, I've had some relationships. I was married to a witch, until she was killed by Death Eaters while fighting in the first war."

"Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Thanks Harry," said Cameron. "There's still a warm spot in my heart for Ruth. But back to your question, I know that girls are a lot easier to figure out before they become women. Which kind do you have a question about?"

"More like a woman."

"Ooh, I was afraid of that," Cameron said playfully, putting Harry more at ease. "Tell me about it."

Harry described his conversations the night before, filling in other things about the two of them and his relationship and feelings for Marietta as he went. Cameron listened attentively to it all.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news for you, Harry. The good news is that you have become interested in a very wise girl. That's the bad news, too. She understood that you couldn't really give your love to someone else as long as it was still with Marietta."

"Do I have to totally lose all feeling for Marietta? I can't imagine that happening."

"No, of course not, Harry. We can move on, but still have regard for people we have loved. I still have very wonderful feelings for Ruth, and it's been nearly twenty years since she died. But I've had relationships, even been in love, since then."

"Didn't any of them work out?"

"No. Things happened. Problems showed up. One of them didn't realize I was a squib until we were four months into dating: when she found out she dumped me. She just couldn't deal with a non-magical boyfriend."

"That's awful," said Harry.

"It hurt, but I grew from it. What I had to realize was that romantic relationships and especially marriages aren't all warm fuzzy feelings. We have notions of what the person we're pairing off with has to be like. Most people want to stay within their religion. Some people demand physical characteristics – it's a physical relationship, too, as I'm sure you know. Some have to have a partner with education, wealth, or a sense of humor. It may seem cold at times, but it's better to know what things are 'deal-breakers' for you so that you don't stay with a person and wind up hating her for not being the person you wanted. But similarly, creating a ridiculous checklist of qualities that aren't really that important severely limits the chances you can find someone who fits in the most important ways. More typical, perhaps, is having a group of qualities you are looking for which a person may more or less have and making sure that enough of them are adequately met."

"I think I see," said Harry, "but Ginny and I have always gotten along great, and we like many of the same things."

"Well, she didn't close the door on you either, did she?"

"No, but … she doesn't want me now. And I want someone in my life."

"That's just it, Harry. You've learned how good it feels to have love in your life, and you're feeling the emptiness of not having that love after having known it. So you want someone. But Ginny needs to know that she's not just 'someone.' She wants to know that the person she has a relationship with wants specifically her."

"But I do – I think I do."

"Harry, you of all people should know the feeling of being someone who just fits a label. When you first came to Hogwarts, you were The Boy Who Lived – most older people still see you that way. Since then you've been the warrior who's faced Voldemort four more times, the basilisk-slayer, the quidditch champion, the Tri-Wizard champion, the youngest wizard ever with a Patronus or a Defense NEWT, the hero of Gringotts, 'Coach' for the DA. I'm sure I've forgotten some. But in all that, haven't you felt separate from those titles, like there's still something else that's just Harry?"

"Oh, absolutely. That's why I like so much being with my friends, and especially the Weasleys. They all know and accept that other stuff, but they react to me just as me."

"Marietta had been concerned about being seen by others as merely 'Harry Potter's girl.' I think that Ginny understands that there are always going to be people who will see whoever you have a relationship with will be seen that way; it seems to me her concern is that she doesn't want to be seen _by you _merely as the person who fits the role of 'the woman in your life.' Now don't misunderstand what I'm saying: that doesn't mean she doesn't want to be 'the woman in your life.' Ginny knows that if you two were to have a relationship that you would want to interact with her the way that men and women interact. Not only does she accept that, she almost certainly is looking forward to it. Almost all men and women have a natural yearning to be like that with a special someone, and they realize it as they grow up - if they haven't been polluted with evil ideas about their bodies. But just as you want to be considered as Harry, not as all that other stuff, she wants to be considered as Ginny, special and unique, not just a generic woman attached to your life who meets your generic male needs."

"But how can I convince her that I think of her as someone unique?"

"Well, Harry, first make sure that you are able to. You've lost Marietta only recently, less than two months ago. You said yourself you still hadn't stopped loving her. It's an open wound in your heart. In time, it will heal; it will leave its traces, scars even. But until it does heal over, you'd be trying to fit any other woman into the image you have of Marietta. You'd be doing a disservice to three people there: the one who's passed, the one you brought in, and yourself. If you tried to just fit someone else into that hole in your heart, you'd tear away at your ability to see each person as unique and worthy of love in their own right. It makes you shallow and self-centered. And Harry – that's not the fine young man I've come to know this summer."

Harry furrowed his brow and glared at Cameron, "You had to add that last little bit, didn't you? Put a little treacle on the bitter pill you'd have me swallow."

Cameron smiled. "It helps, doesn't it? Especially when you know I'm sincere. Read my emotions if you doubt me."

"That's okay. I know you enough to know. So what do I do?"

"You keep training yourself and others. You keep learning how to practice universal love. You acknowledge your feelings for Marietta and the loss. Is there someone who also knew Marietta particularly well you can talk about her with? – that can help."

Harry nodded. "That's what finally allowed me to accept Cedric Diggory's death. Remus suggested that, too, and I need the same person for it. Cho Chang said she was going to keep up as a team leader this year, so she's been here, although I found out today that this week she has family commitments in the evenings, so she won't be here full-time until next week. There's one thing though. A couple of years ago, we had an interest in each other and sort of had a date, but things didn't work out well. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Are you over your attraction?"

"Well, I can still appreciate that she's very pretty, but I don't have a particular interest."

"Well, it's perhaps not ideal, but if she was Marietta's closest friend, then she's probably the best person for it. Just try to keep a little distance between the two of you and let her know that your interest is only in talking out your feelings about Marietta."

"Right then! I'll talk to her this week and let her know that next week she'd better just set aside some time to talk."

"Good, Harry, a plan. Now we have about a half hour before dinner: let's get some of our other work done."

On Tuesday training proceeded similarly. Several more aurors and auxiliaries were testing their patronuses against the lethifold, though only two passed. The others had trouble hanging onto the happy thought needed when there was a monstrous creature advancing. But then, thought Harry, that's the point of the test. When all the patronus students had had as much as they could take, Harry dismissed them to attend sessions with Moody or Mrs. Longbottom.

Harry himself headed down for dueling practice. He was delighted to see that his DA students were faring excellently against the adult wizards. Mrs. Longbottom saw him across the dueling pitches and beamed at him. He apparated over to her side, so as not to pass between the duelists. Mrs. Longbottom pointed out wizards who were having trouble with particular skills. Harry went to work with them individually. In most cases he was able to sharpen up their performance in a few minutes of concentrated effort.

After a while, Mrs. Longbottom suggested that Harry get some practice himself. She called all the other trainees to one end of the field at the side, and sent Harry to the other. She announced that she was going to send in one new person every fifteen seconds until someone hexed Harry. Harry was to use only spells which would not need immediate unhexing. Sorcerer after sorcerer was sent in, only to be knocked out of the match, often with Harry using nothing more than blocking spells to reflect the sorcerer's own spell back.

Several of the original DA members were able to last for more than a minute, Neville longest of all, but before long they were all hit. Finally Tonks was the last to be sent in: she ducked and weaved and finally sent a spell at Harry that he had no defense against, so he avoided it. The avoidance practice was good for him, so he only defended. She fired again and again, from several angles, and then finally caught him with one of the spells just as he was apparating where she had fired. Harry began to laugh and laugh.

"I won, I won," she jumped and shouted. "I hexed him."

Harry continued to laugh uncontrollably. Tonks pointed her wand at him and said "Finite Incantatem," and he caught his breath.

"Well, yeah, Tonks, you did, and I wish you hadn't ended it so quickly. I needed the laugh," Harry said with a grin, "but that'll be the day that the Death Eaters battle with Cheering Charms."

"Doesn't matter!" she said. "The winner was to be the one who hit you with a spell. Na-na-na-na-naaaa-na!"

"I'll have the defense against that next time we spar, Tonks."

"Excellent demonstration," said Mrs. Longbottom. "Remember all of you – until you can beat Potter, you haven't practiced enough!"

A great groan arose from the assembled trainees, by now recovered from the hexes.

"Now, Mr. Potter," said Mrs. Longbottom, "you are expected back at your relatives' house this evening so you can spend your birthday tomorrow there, so you'd better get moving."


	16. Head Boy

Chapter 16 – Head Boy

It had slipped Harry's mind that he had to go back to his aunt and uncle's house for his birthday. Dumbledore explained that it was part of his magical protection from Voldemort, although its effects would only last through the summer now that Harry was becoming an adult in the wizarding world. Harry apparated to his room in the Manor, got Hedwig and her cage, and some changes of clothing. Then he apparated to Mrs. Figg's house, where they shared tea and a pleasant talk about cats. When the time approached that he was expected at the Dursleys, he walked over to Privet Drive. Harry found the door locked when he got there. His first year at Hogwarts, Fred and George Weasley had taught him how to pick locks, a skill which had come in handy the very next summer when all his magical things had been locked away, so he pulled out a paperclip he kept in his pocket for just such emergencies. Soon the door was open.

"Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, I'm home!" he called.

'Did I just say that?' thought Harry. This place had never seemed like a real home before, at least not since he had learned that most children were not treated at their homes the way he had been before last year.

"How'd you get in, you thug?" grated Aunt Marge's voice from the parlor. "I locked that door myself."

Harry smiled sweetly at her and said, "Picked the lock, of course."

Harry went upstairs, shaking his head. Being so direct with her actually quieted her for a few minutes. No doubt she would soon be ranting, so he quickly set down his things. Rather than deal with Aunt Marge's drone, Harry immediately headed out to the back yard to do yard work after putting his things away. Aunt Petunia followed him out into the yard saying loudly that she'd better show him exactly what needed to be done, since Vernon was not home yet.

Quietly she grumbled to Harry, "Of course, he's not home. Even he's gotten tired of the old bat. She used to be unpleasant, but being here three weeks already, she's been impossible." Then she said less negatively but with more concern, "We were told you were asked to help train people to fight HIS allies – is it that bad?"

"You've seen the Dark Marks on telly, haven't you?" said Harry and she nodded. "We've been able to stop most of the attacks, so you can imagine how bad it could be."

"But Harry," she whispered again, "Are you that good at it that they ask you to train even the adults?"

Harry shrugged. "They asked me; I do what I can."

"Well, then, should you even be here?"

"It maintains my protection, and that's still critical until I learn what I have to do to meet him."

Then seeing Marge standing in the kitchen door, Petunia shouted at him, "… and see to it that you rake up every bit of the hedge trimmings when you're done. No more of your usual lazy job!" But before she turned away, she winked at him

The variety actually felt pretty good to Harry. He enjoyed doing simple muggle things. After he had finished the hedge, Uncle Vernon came out shouting, "Let's see what kind of a butcher job you've done on the hedges now, boy!" He winked at Harry and pulled open his coat to show Harry a tube wrapped in birthday wrap paper. Harry's eyes widened slightly and he grinned so that Marge wouldn't see. He didn't care if he got anything expensive, but it would be so nice to get something that wasn't stupid. At least this showed the signs of having some thought behind it. After he finished the hedges and the raking, he hurried in to wash up before dinner. He found that the present had been tucked out of Marge's sight behind his pillow. It was marked, "Do not open until July 31." This was getting exciting.

During dinner he smiled vacantly at Aunt Marge as she said all manner of critical things to and about him. He thoughtfully gave her things to criticise him for - chewing with his mouth open, using his napkin as a bib, blowing his nose at the table (on the tablecloth, no less) - and on and on. It became an in-joke for Harry to see if he could make the Dursleys laugh out loud as he did things to rile Marge. Dudley often faked coughing spells to cover laughter.

Finally, Harry got some more salad from the large bowl and then proceeded to use the tongs to reach inside the back of his t-shirt and scratch.

"Nngh!" he groaned, "ever since I started getting these massive, oozing zits on my back, they've been so itchy. Oh – a-a-aah – got that one."

Harry withdrew the tongs as Marge stared at him, mouth wide open, finally silenced. Harry reached to put the tongs back into the salad bowl and Petunia snatched them out of his hand, barely able to contain herself anymore.

"That's quite enough, young man. If you cannot be civilised, then you will retire to your room and work on your summer assignments."

Harry made a show of grouchily removing himself from the table. When he was sure Aunt Marge couldn't see it, he winked at Petunia; she had to bite her lip to keep from losing control.

Harry had already finished his assignments, but needed to research how to counter cheering charms. Not that he expected them to be used in a battle, but he couldn't let Tonks get away with that again. Not surprisingly it was not a topic commonly addressed in defense books. Before Harry knew it, he heard the bonging that announced midnight. His curiosity having grown through the night over what they might give when they were not antagonistic to him, he leapt for his present from the Dursleys. All his magical friends were holding his gifts until he returned to the Manor. Harry pulled open the wrapping paper and found – a cardboard tube. "A cardboard tube!" he said.

He heard Vernon behind him at the door, "Look inside, you silly wizard!" Petunia and Dudley were standing at the door smiling. Apparently Marge was already retired for the night.

Harry poked his finger in the tube and a piece of stiff paper came out. He unrolled it and found a large photograph. It was a muggle photograph, so it didn't move, but it showed Aunt Petunia and his mother in the center facing each other at angles, each holding a baby lovingly toward the camera, and behind each were their respective husbands, with their hands affectionately on their wives' shoulders.

"We didn't have any photos taken together, Harry," said Petunia quietly, "we really weren't very comfortable with their world. However, your grandmother had similar photos of us and your family taken a few months before she died, a year before your parents were killed. We were both so pleased to be able to show Mum that she had grandchildren. The photoshop was able to merge the two together like this."

"We couldn't give you anything valuable, well, of monetary value. Dumbledore always told us that, and most of the time we didn't much feel like it," said Uncle Vernon, "but we thought you might like this."

Harry turned to them with tears streaming down his eyes. "I am amazed that you wanted to combine your photo with my parents' photo: I have never, ever felt so much a part of a family as right now. Thank you so very much."

Harry could not get to sleep right away, even though he knew the morning run would come early. He took out parchment and quill and wrote to Hermione and Ron. He thought a second and addressed the letter to Ginny as well. He told them all about the picture and how it made him feel connected to his parents and grandparents. He realized that he had no pictures of his grandparents, though he had seen the photos on the wall as he grew up. He mentioned in his letter that he needed to ask Aunt Petunia if he could have duplicates made of several of them. When the letter was finished he rolled it up and retrieved Hedwig from her cage.

"Ready for a flight?" he asked and she hooted. "Of course, you are, Hedwig, my beautiful girl. You're always ready for a good flight. This is addressed to Hermione, Ron and Ginny, but I want you to deliver it directly to Ginny. She'll share it with the rest, but that'll let her know I was thinking of her. Oh, now don't be jealous, Hedwig. Nobody can take your place with me." She hooted again and ruffled out her feathers. "Right then," Harry said, "Off you go."

Harry was torn when the alarm went off the next morning. He felt so at home that he wanted to just roll up in the blankets and stay in his comfortable cocoon. But then the thought intruded on him, as it had for more than a year, that if he wanted this and all the other things he valued to survive long, he had to prepare to meet whatever challenges may come. So he got up and ran.

He had felt very good, though, despite the short sleep, as it had been a particularly sound sleep. He ran farther than usual, but took no more time. He was most of the way through his shower, when his scar began to hurt again, and he realized that another attack was imminent. He threw a towel around his waist without even tying it and ran out of the bathroom toward his room, running into Aunt Marge as he did.

"Lowlife," she muttered, "probably just getting to bed." Ripper growled, and then went back to sleep in her arm.

Harry locked his door and grabbed some parchment to write down the locations. Then he tried to call Remus by mirror. He got no response and then he glanced out the window and saw that there had been a full moon, which was only just now, soon after daybreak, setting. So Harry called for Professor Dumbledore, who answered promptly.

"Harry, another attack? Give me the details, then we'll talk."

Harry described everything he knew and Dumbledore put down the mirror for a few minutes while he notified the aurors.

"Squads have been dispatched, Harry. Other than that, how are things? I can see you are keeping fit."

Harry had forgotten that he had come straight from the shower. "Oh sorry about that, Professor," he said, pulling a t-shirt from a drawer and pulling the towel across his lap.

"Nothing to be embarrassed of, Harry. Everything is pretty much the same in that regard from person to person. My only interest would be in your health."

"Of course, Professor. It just seemed odd, once I realized I was undressed."

Dumbledore smiled. "Happy birthday, Harry. It seems like only yesterday that you were born. Of course, at my age, it would seem a short time. And now here you are an adult as the wizarding world reckons things."

"Thank you, Professor. Let me show you what my aunt and uncle gave me." He reached for the picture.

"I hope it wasn't valuable – that's part of the protection."

"It is to me," said Harry. He held up the photograph.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, getting a catch in his throat, "I can see where it would be. But monetary value is our concern, and since it has only sentimental value, they have done well. They have been surprising me, of late."

"Same here, Professor," agreed Harry, "ever since you talked with them two years ago, they've been changing remarkably."

"I'll confess to having given them a potion to make them more receptive to my discussion, but anything I gave them would have worn off within hours. I have no ready explanation for this behavior. Moving on to other things, I'm aware of the training, and I'll assume that you would have told me of any other significant developments, so I'll turn to some business I have at hand. Letters are being prepared. I need to designate Head Boy. It is yours if you would like it."

Harry stared blankly a second and then spoke, "You mean, I could be Head Boy, without having been prefect?"

Dumbledore nodded once.

"Just as my father had been?"

Again Dumbledore nodded once.

"The acknowledged leader of the students."

Once more, Dumbledore nodded once, and then spoke, "It is recognition of the place you have assumed among your peers. All but a very few look up to you and would follow your lead through almost anything. To inspire hundreds of teenagers to get up before 5 a.m. every single day for over a year to go running in the pre-dawn Scottish Highlands cold is quite a feat. And yet they all do it because you do it."

Harry looked down. "And they have done it without me being Head Boy."

"Yes. Does that sadden you?"

"No. It makes me realize that for me being named Head Boy would be kind of hollow, a distraction even. I haven't wanted to admit to myself that I am a leader among the students, not in the sense of telling anyone what to do, but in setting the pace and the example. And they have been brilliant, inspiring me in turn to work even harder, that I may be worthy of the respect they give me. There are others who would fill the role of Head Boy better. I prefer the title Coach – it fits me. I don't need the recognition."

"It might go to Mr. Malfoy."

Harry shuddered. "If that is who you think should have that authority, then I will trust that you have your reasons."

"Right then, Harry. Who would you recommend for Head Boy?"

"Either Ernie McMillan or Ron Weasley. As much as I would like to favor my best friend, I can't say that either would be better or worse in the position."

"Very well, Harry. Mr. McMillan will be Head Boy. You are right in your assessment. Both would be exemplary, but we try not to have Head Boy and Head Girl from the same house, if it can be sensibly avoided."

"Then Hermione …?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"That's wonderful. She deserves it; she's such a wonderful student."

"That she is, but that is not the basis for my choice. She has grown into a true leader as well, from being quite the loner when she arrived at Hogwarts. And I attribute that growth to your influence."

"I thought I was slowing her down by pulling her away from studies."

"If you didn't interfere with her writing ever longer essays, I am afraid I would have a rebellion among the teachers."

"But what if I had accepted?"

"Very few would have criticized selecting the two of you – and I would not alter my decisions based on such opinions."

"May I tell her when I get back to Longbottom Manor?"

"No, but only because if you knew in advance, it would be obvious that I consulted with you before making the selection."

"And to do that would allow people to guess that Head Boy was offered to me and turned down. And that would cheapen it for Ernie."

"Precisely. You are really developing an understanding and empathy for people. I don't think I have ever been more proud of one of my students."

"Thank you, Professor. That's the second priceless gift I've received today."

"But don't let it go to your head, Harry."

Harry smiled, "I won't."


	17. Goodbye, Aunt Marge

Chapter 17 Good-bye, Aunt Marge

Harry's workouts during his birthday were tinged with sadness, as he realized that there was a very substantial chance he would never be back to these places again. No matter what happened during the school year, he was reasonably sure he would be moving on afterward – if there was to be an afterward for him. And that thought as well was difficult, as he had really given so little thought in the past couple of years to doing something after school. Even when he had career counseling in fifth year, his notion to become an auror was mostly just something to say, just as when he was five and said he would become a fireman. Fighting had never given him pleasure, not the way playing quidditch or coaching the DA had.

In the late afternoon after his other workouts were over, Harry decided that he would go for a walk around Little Whinging so he could see all the places he remembered from growing up. He had horrible memories and some which weren't really so bad after all. He wanted to make peace with his memories, both good and bad. He made a point of taking his wands and his mirror with him, just in case.

When he returned, Marge too seemed to sense the passing of an era – she would no longer have the chance to bully Harry Potter. As he came in the door, she confronted him. "So there you are, skulking about, vandalizing the neighborhood, no doubt, without even the decency to help your poor Aunt Petunia about the house, though she has provided meals and a roof for you all these years!"

"I know you heard me ask her if there was anything she would like done before I left, Aunt Marge," replied Harry tiredly.

"Don't you take that tone with me! They might put up with it, but you'll not talk to me that way. You need to learn to talk proper to your betters," she went on.

"I'll keep that in mind when I'm speaking with my betters," Harry said quietly.

"What? You scurrilous low-life!" Marge then turned to her bulldog. "Ripper! Sic him!"

Ripper continued to sleep at the foot of the stairs, where he had parked himself most of July.

Harry shook his head with resigned pity for her, and then turned to step over Ripper and go to his room. Marge spied the mirror and snatched it out of his waistband.

"Where'd you steal this from? – looks like an antique."

"Give that back, Marge," Harry said low and stern.

"AUNT Marge to you, buster, and I asked you a question."

"It's mine. My godfather gave it to me two Christmases ago."

"Liar! Now answer me before I call the bobbies – where'd you steal this from?"

"It's mine," he said with a growl.

By now, Aunt Petunia had heard the dispute and was coming out from the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah, then why do you carry it?" said Marge.

"I use it," said Harry.

"Liar! I see that hair! You haven't used a mirror to do anything with that in years."

"It's mine – GIVE IT BACK!" Harry roared.

Marge flung the mirror toward the fireplace.

"ACCIO MIRROR," yelled Harry quickly, and the mirror flew to his hand.

Marge stared in amazement, then peered suspiciously at him. "How'd you do that?"

"I reached for the mirror and grabbed it."

"No, I mean making it come to your hand so that you could grab it?"

"You're mistaken," said Harry. "I've just got quick reflexes. I jumped over and grabbed it."

"Liar! I saw that mirror change course in mid-air."

"Of course, I grabbed it and it changed course when I had hold of it. You just missed it because you weren't expecting someone to have such quick reflexes."

"That's what I saw, Marge," added Petunia. "You have to figure that a boy his size who can last in boxing with Dudley has to have developed good reflexes."

"Exactly," said Harry.

"Harry," said Petunia, "I've got the rest of your clothes cleaned for going back to your boot camp. Take them upstairs and we'll fold them together."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," replied Harry. He went through the kitchen to the laundry room and grabbed the stack of dried clothes there. He carried them upstairs, with Petunia close by him to keep Marge from doing anything further. When they got upstairs, she closed the door.

"Harry, you did that without a wand! How long have you been doing that?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh, for a long time. Like, erm – the last time Aunt Marge visited," replied Harry.

"Yes, but that was just you losing your temper. This was controlled. I know from your mother that that is usually very limited. She did very little without her wand."

"It's been getting better over the past couple of years. I've worked at it. I never know when I might be without my wand."

Just then they heard Vernon and Dudley coming in the front door. Marge squabbled at them about the mirror, but Vernon shrugged it all off. As Harry turned to pick up another shirt to fold, he saw Hedwig fly up to his window and, finding it closed, wheeling around to find another means to get to her master and her cage.

"Oh, no," said Harry. "I meant to tell her to stay with my friends."

Hedwig found entrance through the parlor window and flew right past Marge, grazing her hair.

"AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING!" roared Marge, pounding up the stairs and bursting into Harry's room, as Hedwig took her perch. "No decent person keeps an owl as a pet. Only a freak would keep a creepy night creature like that as a pet. You'll never become a decent person keeping a creature of the night, boy!"

Marge then shoved Harry backward and he fell on his bed. Marge opened the window with her left hand, while grabbing Hedwig about the neck with the right. She threw Hedwig violently out the window, yelling "Go, bird, return to the forest where you belong!"

Hedwig had other ideas and after ruffling her feathers in flight a couple of times, she soared back toward her home and the boy she loved. Marge made to grab her again, but her wrists were suddenly grabbed by slender hands with a very firm grip.

"NO!" shouted Petunia, wrenching Marge's hands back away from Hedwig. "YOU'LL KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OTHER PEOPLE'S PETS AND THINGS. HARRY LIVES HERE AND HIS THINGS WILL NOT BE DISTURBED! AND THE OWL HAS BEEN A LOVELY GUEST HERE – ALWAYS CLEAN – UNLIKE A CERTAIN SMELLY INCONTINENT BEAST YOU INSIST ON IMPOSING ON THIS HOUSE!"

"PETUNIA!" yelled Marge, "HOW DARE YOU MOLEST ME! AND HOW CAN YOU BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE AS TO CODDLE THAT BOY IN HIS WEIRDNESS? IT NEEDS TO BE STOMPED RIGHT OUT OF HIM!"

"I'LL TAKE HIS WAYS OVER YOURS ANY DAY, MARGE. JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Just then Dudley called from downstairs. "Mum! Ripper's just soiled the carpet again!"

Petunia's eyes blazed, as she made for the door. "We'll eliminate that problem once and for all!"

"No, you won't, Petunia," yelled Marge, shoving her sister-in-law against the wardrobe as she ran to get to Ripper first.

Petunia was close on Marge's heels and as Marge got to the head of the stairs, Petunia's anger got the better of her and she gave Marge an enormous shove, sending her flying headfirst down the stairs, clearing them all as her face headed directly for the floor, as well as the enormous mound of moist steaming excrement Ripper had left.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA" shouted Harry from the top of the stairs, wand drawn, stopping Marge no more than an inch from colliding with the floor. Her legs were waving in the air like a hydra's tentacles, and her skirt flew down around her torso, disturbed only by her flailing arms. She was screaming incomprehensibly.

Petunia put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thanks, Harry. I don't know what came over me. I didn't want to hurt her. I wouldn't even have hurt Ripper."

"Glad to do it, Aunt Petunia. I know you didn't want to injure her. That was really brilliant the way you told her off upstairs. I hope you understand that I'll have to get a wizard in here to modify her memory. I'd do it myself, but I may be a bit clumsy with it yet. I don't want to do any damage."

Harry called Remus on the mirror while Petunia went down to explain the need to Vernon and Dudley.

"Harry, another attack?" asked Remus. Harry noted how bedraggled Remus looked from the werewolf transformation and the wolfsbane potion he must have taken.

"Not the kind you're thinking. I had to use magic on my aunt and we need a Ministry Wizard to come and clear her memory of the incident."

"Harry, did you lose your temper with her again? I thought you were working on that."

"No, that's not it, Remus. She was falling down the stairs and I stopped her before she hit the floor. See!" Harry turned the mirror so that Remus could see the scene.

"Aarooo!" howled Remus painfully and then began laughing. "Don't ever show anyone anything like that without a proper warning, Harry. I might have gone blind. You know you don't have to leave her like that – no wonder she's screaming."

"Well, that," said Harry with an impish smile, "and the fact that I stopped her face one inch from the floor, but there were two inches of dog poo on the floor. She has her nose sticking in it and she can't move her head without smearing it all over herself."

"Harry!" scolded Remus, but with his own tone of amusement.

"Oh, alright, then," said Harry, and with a wave of his hand, she rose higher, and with another wave she was turned rightside up. Harry took out a wand and pointed it at her face and said "Scourgify," and the mess on it was removed. As she was still screaming, he then said "Silencio," which allowed her to go through all the efforts of screaming, but without sound. Then he pointed at the mess on the floor and said "Scourgify," and the mess there was completely eliminated.

Petunia knelt down where the mess was and examined it closely. "Oh, Harry, it's like new." She had tears in her eyes, as she gazed up the stairs toward him. "Could you possibly do the other areas where Ripper made a mess?"

Harry looked in the mirror to Remus. "Can I?"

Remus shrugged. "You're an adult now, big fella: do it if you want. I'll be going now. I'll send a memory specialist immediately. Happy birthday, Harry!"

"Thanks, Remus. I'll see you first thing in the morning, if I don't have to call sooner."

Harry went about the downstairs with Aunt Petunia, scourgifying all the spots she could find, a number of which Harry knew could not be blamed on the dog, but he didn't care. While he was doing this, the memory wizard arrived and modified Marge's memory. She went into a very deep sleep.

"That'll last a couple of hours or so. Nothing to worry about. It's a big stress to have your memory modified."

"Thanks," said Harry and the Dursleys, just before the wizard disapparated.

"So, Harry, "said Vernon nervously, "I thought your kind had rules against a youngster doing magic like this."

"Oh, yes, we do, but I'm not underage now. The law applies to those under 17."

Vernon blanched. "I have feared this day, Potter. I thought the age might be 18. I just didn't know. I'm afraid we treated you very poorly for quite some time. I'm sure you have wanted to settle things once and for all for a long time. I know we can't stop you, so go ahead and do what you have a mind to."

Harry still had a wand out. He approached Vernon with a crafty look on his face.

"Yes, indeed," he said, "you have been quite beastly at times."

Then he threw his arms as far as he could around Vernon. "But I couldn't harm you. All is forgiven. I know it was your fear of magic making you act that way. I'm just so glad these past two summers have been so much better."

Then Harry hugged his aunt. Dudley wouldn't let him hug, so they shoved each other playfully.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'll miss you all very much."

"Don't go, Harry," said Petunia. "Don't go. You're safe here. Wait out the war. Something will happen to bring it to an end, and then you can return to that world."

Harry closed his eyes. "I cannot tell you how tempting that is. But right now I don't need that temptation. I couldn't live with myself if I left the battle to others, especially as I've been asked to help them prepare to meet Voldemort's supporters. It would be as shameful and wrong of me to turn my back on them as anything could be. And besides, the war won't just blow over. Voldemort believes I am his primary threat, and I've realized that this is so. Eventually the war would find its way here, and the sanctity of this home would be no more. Among my friends I have allies, who will help me stand up against him. I must get back to them."

Harry went upstairs and packed his things. He made sure Hedwig was okay, which she was, except for a few broken feathers which he carefully trimmed. The sun was going down, so he told her she could go get some dinner while he ate with his family. Then he stroked her before launching her out the window. He went downstairs and had dinner with the Dursleys, with much of laughter and tears.

When they were done, he cleaned the kitchen magically. Petunia was thrilled, but she still had that look she always got when the place was not quite clean enough. Then he went upstairs to gather all his things and return to Longbottom Manor. Marge was waking. He looked at her and realized he no longer felt the animosity that used to roil him.

"Good-bye, Aunt Marge," he said, and then he went up the stairs, laid hold of his things and Hedwig's cage, with Hedwig in it again, and returned to training camp.


	18. The Home Front

Chapter 18 The Home Front

By the end of the first week of training, a reorganization of schedules seemed in order. Since all of them already had the beginnings of a patronus when they arrived, much progress had been made in having the adults master the patronus and test against the lethifold. Only eight adults who had corporeal patronuses could not produce them when there was a deathly threat, and Tonks was the only adult whose patronus was still too indistinct to give more than a few seconds pause to a dementor. It was decided that the teams would have morning and afternoon sessions with Moody and Mrs. Longbottom, from which the trainees who needed patronus work would check out for one half hour each day for intensive one-on-one work with Harry and Remus. In the late afternoons, all the Hogwarts students who still needed to work on their patronuses would come up to the attic for a group session, very much like DA Patronus work.

The activity and sense of purpose was all very enjoyable to Harry: he would even have called it a happy time, were it not for the circumstances. Of course, there was the ever-present terror war. Non-combatant casualties had been held to only about fifty people, evenly split between wizards and muggles, and eleven goblins by the beginning of August. A communication link had been set up between Remus and a goblin liaison, which had cut the rate of goblin deaths and made the Diagon Alley sector even more secure for all.

Also Harry's mind was more often filled with brooding about Marietta's death, now that thoughts of her had again been brought to the front of his mind. He tried to get Cho to set a time to talk with him about Marietta, but she kept putting him off as though she was too busy catching up with her other friends there at training. He suspected she was actually avoiding him. He was tempted to use legilemency on her, but controlled that urge. He decided that she probably knew what he wanted to talk with her about, since they had done the same thing the year before over Cedric Diggory's death. Perhaps she wasn't ready to hash it out – she and Marietta had been close friends for years.

Another threat to Harry's happiness, and he well knew it was the most threatening, was sensing Voldemort probing his mind. Very little that Harry consciously thought of could be kept a secret anymore, just as Harry was aware of any attacks and schemes of Voldemort. In fact, Harry was only too aware that the approval of targets by Voldemort was a deliberate strike at Harry's emotional state. The Death Eaters and their allies were fully capable of fanning out and killing randomly: Voldemort wanted Harry to be forced to be a conduit, so that Harry would be incensed and more open to Voldemort's mind. Harry had discussed this with Dumbledore, who thought that the breakdown of the division between their minds was probably beyond the power of occlumency to debar. Dumbledore insisted on frequently checking that Harry was maintaining his individuality against Voldemort. Dumbledore required that Harry spend at least two hours each day with Cameron working on positive emotions and how to live by universal love, and if Harry started to let that schedule slip in his focus on his own and others' training, Moody or Mrs. Longbottom would intervene to free up the needed time.

When Harry pointed out that at least the link was enabling them to thwart most of the attacks, Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, Harry, but I'm afraid this also takes a toll on your independence from him. You know that part of the purpose of the attacks is to fill you with anger and hatred so that you will be more vulnerable to him; you must keep up the fight within you to be separate from him, to maintain your own soul against his pressures."

Harry got a sudden severe pain at that moment and winced. "He has heard that, Professor, and he insists he will overcome me. He scoffs at my insistence that I will not let it happen."

Harry also was frustrated in simply wanting someone special in his life. Camaraderie with Remus, Ron and his other friends only went so far. He wanted the emotional intimacy that buddies could not provide. Even the intense talks with Cameron did not fill the void. He realized that he wanted the comfort of a loving relationship with a woman. Though he would have preferred to have this relationship with Ginny, that possibility seemed to have been closed.

Harry recognized that a substantial part of the feeling was simply raging teenage hormones. He talked it over with Cameron who helped him realize that more than just the unmistakable desire for physical contact with a woman, he also craved emotional intimacy. Harry came to understand this and felt a bit embarrassed at how much he had the sense of desiring physical contact. However, Cameron reassured Harry that such desire for contact was entirely normal for people. He also confirmed Harry's gut feeling that touch was a critical component in signifying and expressing emotional intimacy and openness. They talked several times about the time involved in establishing and maintaining that. While this did not relieve the yearning, it at least let Harry know that it would not be quickly solved, so he would have to be patient.

In his awareness of this desire, Harry realized that he was noticing Ginny more and that she was paying attention to him. It was odd, he thought. At the beginning of the summer he had merely an inkling of having such an interest in her, and even when he had talked to her, it was still just a vague sense; but ever since she had turned him away, he was fascinated. He had always wanted to be appreciated just for himself, not for reputation or money or such. The fact that she rejected him showed that those things were not enough to entice her. There was something more that she needed, and he was determined to figure it out.

By the same token, Harry knew that if he did show whatever it was she was looking for, she would see it. He saw that if she was in the area, and in the close confines of a training camp at a manor house this was inevitable much of the time, she noticed - when he sought out Cho to find a time to talk, or when he horsed around with Tonks, or got advice and hugs from Hermione, or had long talks with Luna. At such times, her expression was definitely not neutral: on occasions it was plainly hostile.

Again, it took all of Harry's willpower to hold back from using legilemency. He even could feel Voldemort pushing him to use it, as Voldemort seemed to be particularly intent on keeping Harry from as much emotional support as he could. He hoped that practicing resisting Voldemort's prodding to use legilemency would strengthen him against Voldemort in other respects. He described this to Dumbledore, who could only say that he agreed with that hope.

Harry clung fiercely to the idea that invading another's mind unbidden is just as much a violation as touching them in ways unwanted and uninvited. Voldemort frequently worked on seducing Harry into using that power as a means to know others' minds and therefore be able to control them. Voldemort showed Harry how easy it was to step from legilemency to various forms of possession. Inevitably Voldemort would go too far, reading Harry's interest in Ginny and trying to tempt him with the prospect of being able to control her and compel her to serve his desires. Voldemort was unable to appreciate the revulsion that came to Harry at this notion. To Voldemort, people existed for his use. He tried to tell Harry that subverting the will in this way was not overpowering the person, but Harry recognized such a use as rape, at least spiritually so if not in the physical act.

The prospect of knowing others' thoughts was very tempting to Harry, but Voldemort was so oblivious to the idea of valuing others for themselves that he would show not just knowledge of others' minds but subjection of them. As the connection grew more open, Voldemort could no longer simply visualize an image so that Harry would simply see it – Harry saw the whole thought process as well. Harry sensed not just what Voldemort wanted to show, but also the thinking behind it, the contempt for others inherent in it and the monstrous extents to which Voldemort was accustomed to using it. Harry shuddered to think of how Ginny would detest him if she knew what the voice within him pushed him to do. Even without this fear, the disgust Harry felt at the idea of undermining the will of a person he loved strengthened him in his resolve to resist such efforts.

In addition to these problems, there was Harry's towering frustration with Tonks. Harry could continue to work with Neville and the other students who could not master the Patronus Charm, both at the Manor and through the school year. But it particularly nettled him that Tonks could not handle this absolutely critical spell. It wasn't for want of trying, on either of their part. For all her carefree attitude, she just did not seem to be able to find and hold onto a sufficiently intense happy thought. It really irked Harry.

On the first Sunday of August, many of the trainees played a pick-up game of Quidditch. There were more than enough players, either from current or past teams, or those who hadn't been on teams who enjoyed a good excuse to fly and chase around a field in the mid-summer sun. They decided to play the game with each team having 2 seekers, 4 beaters, 2 keepers and 7 chasers. Cho and Harry were seeking on opposite teams, and with so many beaters available, one on each team was assigned to each of them to keep them from getting the snitch. The other two seekers were rusty, so they didn't merit the special attention.

They were having a rollicking good time, with plenty of mid-air collisions and rescues by Neville, Hermione and Wimbush, who had volunteered to catch people knocked from their brooms, when Harry's scar began to hurt more than it had all summer. He sent the red sparks from his wand for an emergency timeout and set to the ground, where Remus was ready with parchment to take down the details. Harry reeled off location after location.

After a dozen, Remus said, "That's all the standing teams available."

"Keep writing," said Harry, and listed off six more.

At the last one, Ernie gasped and got bug-eyes. "That's my home!" he said and disapparated.

"Remus, get teams out! We can make teams here. I'm going to help Ernie. I know his neighborhood," said Harry, and as Remus tried to stop him Harry disapparated.

Harry apparated behind a dumpster down an alley behind the Indian restaurant near the McMillans' house. He scared a pair of cats, and their sudden cries scared him in turn. This was a very widespread attack and Harry knew that the intention was to make sure there would be plenty of casualties, so he had to be watchful. His heart thumped in his chest and he consciously composed himself so that he could think clearly.

Seeing no signs of magical activity in the alley, he apparated to the roof of the restaurant and scouted the area from there. Leaning over the streetside edge of the roof, he saw Ernie running into the house with wand drawn and spells firing. Harry apparated back to the alley and hustled from alcove to alcove in case there were sorcerers still outside. He found none all the way to Ernie's door. As he approached, he saw frequent flashes of light which he recognized as the glow from potentially deadly spells from the drawing room windows. They were flying as intensely as any duel he had seen Ernie in before.

Harry peeped around the frame of the open door and saw Ernie engaged in a furious battle with a hooded Death Eater. Just then, Ernie reflected a red cutting spell back at the Death Eater, who barely moved his head in time. Instead the spell slashed through the hood and tore it off. Harry recognized the wizard as Mulciber. Harry fired an anti-disapparation spell at Mulciber who saw it coming, blocked it, and then disapparated.

"There's a dementor upstairs, Harry. I don't know where my parents are. Stand guard."

Ernie ran upstairs, shouting "Expecto Patronum" and sending his patronus on ahead to deal with the dementor. Harry checked around the first floor and out the windows and doors, and then he too started up the stairs. Harry heard the sound of doors on their hinges, and then the dementor came gliding down the stairs with Ernie's patronus behind it. Harry tried several spells to see if anything would affect it – stunner, Petrificus Totalis, Impedimenta, the cutting spell Dobby had used to kill Fudge, even a cheering charm – but all he could do is ruffle its robes.

As the dementor evacuated the house, Tonks and Dawkins arrived at the door. Seeing a dementor coming at them, Dawkins conjured his patronus and the dementor escaped down the street, chased by the two patronuses.

"We've searched the perimeter," said Dawkins. "Is the house safe?"

Just then there was a howl from upstairs.

"Downstairs is. McMillan's upstairs. Cover it here. Tonks, let's go," said Harry quickly.

He and Tonks ran to the top of the stairs. Harry directed Tonks to the right, and Harry went to the left, to where he could hear the sound of sobbing. He checked the bedroom and the bathroom on the left side as he went, and then went into Ernie's parents' room on the right, from which he could hear bawling. He found Ernie standing in the room, clutching his mother desperately and crying into her shoulder. Iphigenia stood completely indifferent to his hug and tears. She stared off vacantly into the distance, half-hissing, half-whispering to herself. She was in a dressing gown which she allowed to hang open, heedless of anything around her at all. She showed no recognition of Ernie, or Harry, or anything. A few seconds later Tonks came to the door.

"Harry, what's going … oh, no, I've seen this - the dementor's kiss," said Tonks, reducing her voice to a husky whisper. "What happened, Harry?"

"I don't know. I just got here myself." Harry approached Ernie gingerly and placed a supportive hand on his back. "Ernie?"

Ernie never let go of his mother, but caught himself enough to say, "I don't know … I sent my patronus ahead … when I got to the head of the stairs, … I saw the dementor coming out of the room … I found Mum like this."

He then began bawling again and Harry and Tonks came to each side of him, making supportive gestures, however feeble. They did not sob, but both had tears forming in their eyes. Harry had never felt so entirely useless as at that moment. He also felt guilty.

Then they heard a commotion downstairs, and heard Porphyrio's voice. "It's my home. I have to know what's happened."

Dawkins then was heard. "Upstairs, sir. I don't know what the situation is: it seems to be secure."

Ernie ran and met his father in the hall, quietly preparing his father for the situation. Porphyrio came to the door, with obvious dread, and saw his wife. Iphigenia was wandering around, turning when her feet bumped into things, feebly grasping objects like she recognized them, and then dropping them. Porphyrio grabbed her and called to her. He shook her shoulders, trying to get some reaction from her. She looked right through him, without focus, quietly and aimlessly hissing. She had lost the serene look Harry had been so enamored of: instead she looked as if she was dwelling on some vague worry. Porphyrio hugged her to him and cried bitterly.

Harry's heart felt like it would rip, but then he felt a different feeling rising within him. He had to suppress a desire to laugh – not a nervous laugh but a vigorous cold cackle. It rose within him and nearly erupted. It made him ill to have the feeling and he exerted a lot of effort to suppress it. He forced himself to think of healthier thoughts. He reached an arm ought and squeezed Ernie's shoulder with one hand, but the voice within him grew louder when he tried to look at Ernie. The two of them were shaking with rage and fear.

Harry turned to Tonks and hugged her. He whispered that he needed to drive out the voice in his head and he squeezed her tight. She squeezed him back and whispered encouragement, "You can beat it, fella. You've got the caring heart. You can drive him out. You're better than that." Finally he was able to drive the sickening impulse out.

Arrangements were made and Iphigenia, Ernie, and Porphyrio were taken to St. Mungo's. The excuse was to see if any of her soul remained, but Tonks quietly told Harry that the real reason was to have a chance to counsel the family. Harry helped to apparate them there. Porphyrio thanked him, but then asked if they could just have family time. Harry and the aurors understood. Tonks and Dawkins had to report back to the Ministry to fill out the paperwork and Harry was to apparate back to the Manor. Before leaving he encouraged Ernie to take all the time he needed.

Back at the Manor, he quickly located Remus and Cameron, and then called Dumbledore on the mirror. They all talked about the sick feeling he had gotten from Voldemort's emotions. They agreed Harry had become vulnerable to such a strong intrusion because of the fear and anger he was feeling. Harry recognized that he had to learn to control his emotions even under the most horrific of circumstances, so that he could maintain his separateness. They all also gently but firmly scolded Harry for apparating out to the attack himself, but none of them could bring themselves to be severe with him. Lupin took Cameron's paperwork so that Harry could have a long, healthy talk with him.

"Cameron, it's my fault."

"For what, Harry, not arriving sooner? You shouldn't have gone at all."

"No. She was targeted because I had been so enthralled with her. When I visited a couple of weeks ago, I found her so remarkable. She was kind and talented and gentle and open and charming – no, beyond charming, gracious, not just in a formal way. Grace _infused_ her. When I would hear of all the good things that people say about my mother, I came to doubt that anyone could be so wonderful, but there was Iphigenia, being just like that. Voldemort knew how I felt. He sent one of his deadliest Death Eaters to make sure the job would get done. And now she's an empty shell of a person – because of me."

Harry broke down and began sobbing into his hands. Cameron rubbed his shoulders supportively.

"Harry, I can't say that you are not the reason that Voldemort chose her. You know his mind better than anyone. But you mustn't feel guilty. Guilt attaches to the choices we make – not the choices others make. The taint in our souls comes from what is within them, not what is outside. And as much as his thoughts invade your mind, your mind is still your own and you have not acted to harm anyone."

Harry nodded understanding of the words. He continued to cry off and on as they discussed his admiration for Iphigenia, his grief at her destruction, and the idea that he was not at fault. They talked a long time, and Harry understood what was being said, but still, in his heart, Harry felt that somehow he was indeed at fault.


	19. Dealing With Dementors

Chapter 19 – Dealing with Dementors

That evening, during the regular review of developments in the war, Mrs. Longbottom paid special attention in describing the entire attack at the McMillans and what happened to Iphigenia McMillan to those at dinner. Everyone needed to know how close to home this all could strike and the importance of a patronus. Harry was relieved to see that Ernie was not sitting through this as he had not yet returned. Harry himself was barely able to maintain his composure. Mrs. Longbottom had warned him that she was going to give this talk and invited him to slip away if he needed to. Harry said that he thought it best if he stay, but that he would prefer not to be asked to say anything about it in front of everyone. Mrs. Longbottom signified her understanding and agreement with a solemn nod.

The talk had the desired effect. The next day, everyone redoubled their efforts at training. In Patronus sessions Harry was as singularly focused as anyone had ever seen him. He was determined that everyone be able to counter a dementor. After very intense practice sessions, three more adult wizards and two more Hogwarts students had breakthroughs on their patronus; all five tested against the lethifold and they all passed.

Almost every moment he wasn't working with a patronus student, Harry would apparate to the dueling pitches and help people sharpen up their spells, their speed, their reflexes, and their movements. To Harry, a lost minute could mean a lost soul, and he could not abide that such a thing could happen because he had not been vigorous enough. He understood Cameron's words that the attacks were not his fault, though they were hard to take to heart, but Harry believed that if it was in his power to enable someone to defeat an attack, it was his fault if a trainee was unprepared.

The last patronus session before the dinner break was Tonks. Harry asked Remus to work with her while he watched. He watched her intently as Remus demonstrated the patronus again, listened to her pronunciation, and helped her choose a very happy thought. Harry watched as she tried again and again to produce a patronus, but made only a silvery cloud, which quickly dissipated. Harry stepped in a few times to tweak things she was doing, but he found himself getting very agitated about it, and Remus would calm him and ask him to sit again.

As Harry sat, Hermione, Ron and Neville came to watch. They sat behind him and gave him a pat on the back, but said nothing. They had seen Harry with this sort of concentration before. He had shown it many times when he was coaching, and they would not interfere at this moment. They were not afraid of his reaction; it was just that they knew that his mind was totally committed to his student at such times. Very often they found that students made leaps of progress at just such times.

Finally, Harry could abide it no more. He leapt from his bench and rushed at Tonks. He grabbed her nearest shoulder and turned her to face him. He grasped her by both upper arms and he peered deeply into her eyes as if he were looking directly into her mind. He started screaming at her.

"TONKS, WHAT IS THE MATTER? WHY DO YOU PLAY AROUND AT THIS? WE HAVE LESS THAN A MONTH LEFT HERE AND YOU HAVE TO LEARN THIS! YOU RUSH OUT TO FIGHT VOLDEMORT'S TEAMS, BUT YOU HAVE NOTHING YOU CAN DO AGAINST THE MOST DEADLY OF HIS FORCES. YOU CAN DISABLE A WIZARD, BUT YOU CAN'T STOP A DEMENTOR WITHOUT A PATRONUS. I TRIED SPELLS: THEY DON'T WORK ON DEMENTORS. I CAN'T KEEP SENDING YOU OUT TO FIGHT DEMENTORS WITHOUT A PATRONUS!"

Tonks was shaking with fear and her lip quivered as she said weakly, "Harry, you don't send me out. The Ministry does. I'm an auror."

Harry's eyes blazed in intensity, and he resumed his yelling, even louder, gripping her upper arms firmer and leaning in even closer, "A PRETTY EFFING USELESS ONE, IF YOU CAN'T MAKE A PATRONUS. AND I MAY NOT GIVE YOU THE ORDERS, BUT I GIVE ALL THE INFORMATION TO THE AURORS' LIAISON."

Harry nodded his head to indicate Remus. Remus took this slight lull to try to intervene, but Harry stared him back with a fierce but controlled glare. Remus relented when he realized Harry was not going to physically harm her.

Harry started in on Tonks again, still yelling, but not quite as loud. "You saw Mrs. McMillan yesterday! She was little but a zombie. Tonks, I knew her. She was gracious, and kind, and even though she was not a very powerful witch, she brought beauty and charm to everything around her. It tore me up to see her that way! And you remind me so much of her – you add so much joy and exuberance and you spread cheer and charm to those around you. To me! I couldn't stand to see in your eyes the emptiness I saw yesterday in hers. I just couldn't take it. I love you too much. So YOU HAVE TO LEARN THIS! YOU JUST HAVE TO LEARN THIS! YOU JUST HAVE TO LEARN THIS!"

He broke down and began sobbing as he continued quietly, "You just … have to …"

Tonks looked up at him, and she was crying as well. Hermione, Ron and Neville came up to Harry and led him out of the patronus practice room, as Remus took Tonks under his arm and comforted her.

Out in the hall, Harry started to control his tears and rage. "I'm sorry. I just lost it."

"Don't be sorry, mate," said Ron quietly, "We all know how much you care."

"It's a wonder you don't break down entirely," said Hermione.

"It must be awful," said Neville, "to work so hard with someone you care so much about, when you're sure they ought to be able to do it, and get nowhere."

They all looked at him, and then he realized why, and said with a nervous chuckle, "Oh, yeah, I guess I could be talking about myself. No wonder Gran was so hard on me for so long."

Harry began to laugh, and they all joined him,

"How about a workout, Harry?" suggested Hermione. "You know how doing lifts helps you get the tension out."

They all headed down to the dorms for their gym clothes and then went to the gym which had been installed. It was over forty minutes of very robotic and brisk weight-lifting before Harry came out of the funk of his rage.

At the end of the workout, Neville came to Harry and asked if they could all talk privately. He also collected Ron and Hermione. They took quick showers and went out to the paddock near the kitchen door which they went by each morning for their run.

"It's like this," began Neville, "All this with Ernie's Mum and Harry's, erm, reaction with Tonks, has got me really worried about the dementors. You've worked with me for 2 years now. And I know I have made a lot of progress on other things, but I'm no closer to a corporeal patronus than I was last summer."

"Well, you're making a bigger mist," offered Harry.

"But it won't get the job done, will it?" asked Neville, and Harry sadly shook his head. "And what's more, if you three couldn't make a patronus, you could at least apparate away, if you kept your wits about you. I couldn't even do that. I need some other way to deal with dementors besides hiding behind others. Look what happened to Mrs. McMillan – that could have been me. What can I do?"

"I don't know of any other spells or charms that work," said Harry. "I tried several at the McMillans'".

"I haven't heard of any either," said Hermione, furrowing her brow. Ron nodded his agreement thoughtfully.

"You know," said Harry, "I was thinking earlier this summer how we needed a way to permanently incapacitate dementors. If we can't knock them out of action, we'll have to keep on dealing with them forever. A patronus doesn't destroy them – it just chases them away."

Neville nodded. "Too bad we can't petrify them, like happened to you, Hermione."

"Yeah," said Harry, "but I tried the petrification spell on the dementor at the McMillans and it didn't do a thing. Cheering charms don't work either."

"Cheering charms?" said Ron.

Harry shrugged. "I tried other things first. It seemed to be the thing most contrary to their character – can you imagine a happy dementor?"

"In a Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops," added Ron.

"And a thong," said Hermione.

They all shuddered and laughed.

"Hermione!" said Ron, incredulously, "Where'd that come from?"

"Ron, I have a sense of humor, too, you know."

"Since when?"

"Well, I'd have to have one to be seeing you!"

"Is that so? Well, I like that!"

"Hold on," said Harry. "Time out, you two. Let's get back to what really might work with dementors."

They thought for several minutes before Hermione said, "You know, maybe petrification would work."

"But Hermione, I tried to petrify it – no go," said Harry.

"And if Harry's spells won't do it, what hope have I?" added Neville.

"I wasn't thinking of a spell. They aren't as strong as some other types of magic. Have you ever tried to petrify a ghost?"

"Once, when Moaning Myrtle decided to make a habit of joining me in the shower," said Harry.

"It didn't work, did it," continued Hermione with a smirk.

"No, she laughed and said she almost felt it."

"But Nearly Headless Nick was petrified five years ago."

The boys stared at her for several seconds. Then Harry said, "But that was done by a basilisk. Three problems there: it's perhaps the deadliest creature ever made, it was about the size of an Underground train, and I killed it."

"Well, you need something very powerful to stop a dementor," said Hermione, "and that one was 1000 years old – of course it was big. And if that one was hatched, another one can be."

"Hermione, I thought you were daft when you decided to make Polyjuice potion - ," said Ron.

"What?" said Neville.

"Oh, uh, extra credit for Potions," said Harry.

"Oh," said Neville, clearly not entirely convinced, but knowing enough about his friends to not ask too many questions.

"Hermione, for a basilisk to kill or petrify, don't you have to look it in the eye?" said Neville.

"Yes, Neville, that's why we had no fatalities second year – no one looked at it directly except for Nick, who couldn't die again. Well, the bite is deadly poisonous, too, but somehow I doubt poisons would work on a dementor."

"Well, aren't dementors blind?" he continued.

Hermione frowned at that and thought.

"Not totally," said Ron.

"What?" said the others together.

"I know they have some way of telling light from dark – they prefer to stay in darkness. And if they didn't have some sort of vision, they probably would end up dressed like Dobby, rather than in the black robes they're always in."

"Like the Emperor's New Clothes!" said Hermione excitedly.

"Huh?" said Neville.

"It's a muggle fairy tale about an emperor who was tricked into paying a fantastic price for a set of clothes which he was told were made of a magical material that could only be seen if someone was wise. But the tailors were not actually making anything: they just acted like they were making a set of robes. They trusted that neither the emperor nor his courtiers would say they couldn't see it, for risk of being thought fools. But when the emperor paraded about the town in the new clothes, a little boy – who didn't care if he was thought wise – said that the emperor had no clothes. And when he said that, the whole crowd began to admit that they too couldn't see any clothes. And finally the emperor and his court admitted it as well."

"That's a cool story, Hermione," said Neville. "I'll bet it's a hoot when it's not told so quickly, but what does it have to do with dementors?"

"The emperor couldn't judge the clothes because he couldn't see them – but the dementors know that they have black robes and that the black robes blend into the dark that they inhabit. And they know that they are in the dark. Dementors may have very poor vision, but they can see!"

"Okay, one problem solved," said Harry, "but how big would a young basilisk be, and how would we carry it around?"

"Well," said Hermione, "they hatch from a cockerel egg, hatched under a toad of course…"

"Of course," said Ron, nodding to Neville, who grinned.

"Yes! So how big a baby would fit in an eggshell – no bigger than your little finger around, and less than a foot long. That wouldn't be too big to handle."

"But how fast do they grow?" asked Neville, "We wouldn't want to have to keep hatching replacements all the time."

"Well, if it only got to the size Harry describes …"

"Only!" said Harry, "I dare anyone else to face that thing and not wet themselves."

"I'm not minimizing it, Harry, but it had a thousand years or so to grow. It couldn't have grown more than 2-3 inches a year tops."

"Maybe faster at first," said Neville, "I know from my plants that the first few months or years of growth are the quickest."

"My parents keep little bonsai trees in their dental offices," said Hermione.

"Okay, I'll bite again – what's that and why do you bring it up?" asked Neville.

"Bonsais are regular forest-type trees that are planted in small pots on rocks. By feeding and watering them only a little, and cutting their roots regularly, they grow to maturity no bigger than a flobberworm."

"But they don't really look like a regular forest tree – more like the kind you see on rocky windswept cliffs," added Harry.

"That's cool – can we visit your parents' office sometime, Hermione?" asked Neville.

"Of course," said Hermione, "but there are other places to see bonsais. The point is that if you only feed a creature the bare minimum it needs to survive, then it will grow very little. It works best with cold-blooded living things that don't have a set adult size. You couldn't do it with birds or mammals, but I'll bet if you fed a snake very sparingly, it would grow only very slowly."

"You're getting really serious about this, Hermione," said Harry.

"Neville's right, Harry, he needs a means of defense until he can master the patronus. And you're right that we need a way to take them out of the picture entirely."

Harry squinched up one side of his face and said, "Alright then, Granger, how does he carry this thing around?"

"Hmm, we need it to be constricted so that it can't wriggle around and bite anyone – well anyone we don't want it to," said Hermione, "so what we need is a tube."

"Aah, got you Hermione," said Harry, "if the tube is open, then the basilisk can crawl away and wreak havoc, but if it's closed, then it can't look out!"

"Close the tail end with a cap, and put glass or crystal over the head end so that it can look out!" said Neville excitedly.

"And have a cap you can put over the end like a muggle ball point pen!" added Hermione.

Ron began to summarize. "Okay, where are we now – we plan on Neville walking around with a basilisk in a covered tube…"

Neville interrupted, "We can make it look like a wand so no one knows I have it."

"Well, it might cause a panic if it were known what you had, so okay, a fake wand it is," agreed Harry, "and it has a crystal end that the basilisk can peer through to petrify things, and I guess it'll need air holes and a tiny slot at the side that we can poke food through. The first problem is probably the easiest – how to get one."

"That's easy?" asked Hermione.

"Of course," said Harry, "who do we know that would happily help us hatch something insanely dangerous if we told him it was to be a pet?"

"Hagrid!" said the others together.

"Now we'll have to have the equipment ready for him to be able to hatch it. He'll need a toad, a nest box that will force the baby to crawl into the tube, erm – wand, and of course, the wand. Hermione, he'll need a way to know that the basilisk is hatching so that he can remove the toad and put a lid over the egg to keep the basilisk confined. It should follow the only light, which will be that coming through the length of the wand."

"I can charm the nest to do that," said Hermione, "and if the baby doesn't go for the light on its own, you can talk it down the tube."

"Oh, yeah, parseltongue. You know, I hardly ever think about my parseltongue skills. I think the real reason it's rare is that it's a really stupid power to have. I mean, snakes really haven't got all that much to say, you know."

"That leaves two problems, basically related to what to do if there's a cock-up," said Hermione, "we'll need a way to kill it and we'll need depetrification potion."

"Okay, you kill them with a rooster's crowing, so we'll just keep a rooster in our pockets," said Ron.

"Aren't you the cocky one?" said Hermione. She laughed and said, "I knew I would be able to work that one into this conversation."

Ron scrunched his face at her pun. "Don't worry Hermione – you'll get the hang of this humor stuff after a while."

In response, Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, and then winked and smiled.

"Maybe something a little more discrete: we're sorcerers, after all," said Neville. "We ought to be able to charm something to turn into a rooster when needed."

"Great idea, Neville," said Harry, "and I know a couple of brothers who love to make fake wands. I'll bet Fred and George could make a hollow fake wand that would turn into a rooster when it ceased to have something in it."

"Well, they're already making them turn into doves and other birds," said Hermione. "I can't see why a rooster would be a problem."

"How about the depetrification potion? We should have some on hand – just in case," said Harry.

"Most of the ingredients can be gotten at the apothecary's at Diagon Alley. If I can't get there before school, Fred or George could help us out," said Hermione, "but we have to have fresh mandrake."

"Which we just happen to have in all stages of development in the Longbottom greenhouses. We're supplying the uncommon ingredients for potions that Gran says the resistance needs."

"Erm, what do you know about that?" asked Harry.

"I know Gran's been doing some things Dumbledore asks her, and I know it has to do with fighting Voldemort. It's got to be something outside the Ministry or we'd see Ministry people involved. That's all. Why – do you know something?"

"No, nothing," said Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly.

"Can you get some of the mandrakes?" asked Hermione.

"Sure, the greenhouses have been my responsibility all summer. I'm good for something, you know," said Neville.

"A lot more than just that, you sod," said Harry.

Neville grinned. "Anyway, we always grow about twice what we need, because there are always some that fail to thrive. I can cull some and get what we need."

"How soon could you make the potion, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Aren't you even going to ask me IF I can make it?"

"No," said all three boys together emphatically.

Hermione sighed. "It takes two days once I have the ingredients. Once bottled it will keep at least a year. We could make more next summer if need be."

"You know," said Neville, "we still really don't know if the basilisk would work on a dementor."

"We'll test it," said Harry.

"We don't have dementors in the greenhouses, Harry," said Neville. "Trust me, I'd know."

"No, but we have a lethiform in the attic. That's how we test patronuses. Lethiforms and dementors are related. But we have to assemble everything else first – the wand, the nesting box, the egg, the toad, the potion. How about this – Hermione, you take care of the nesting box and make a list of ingredients you'll need from Diagon Alley. Ron and I will take care of talking to Hagrid about the hatching and the twins about the wand and the other ingredients. When one of the twins goes back to the shop this week for Lee's day off, he can pick up what we need. Neville, work with Hermione on which mandrakes to use."

Ron looked very umcomfortable.

"I know that look," said Hermione. "Ron, don't you even trust Neville and me to go to the greenhouses together."

"Well, erm, it's just …" said Ron.

"Oh, get over it, Ron. Just because you finally discovered I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm going to be that way with everyone. Or do you not trust Neville – do you think he's going to force himself on me? He's not like that."

Neville winced. "Somehow that comes off as insulting, Hermione, like I'm not man enough to have an interest."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, you men with your insecurities. You're plenty manly, Neville. And your trimmed down, muscled-up physique looks great. But you're also a very decent man, and a decent man doesn't overpower a girl."

"Well, alright, I guess," said Neville

"Besides," continued Hermione, "as strong as you are and as good at dueling as you've gotten, you know I can and would kick your heinie from here to Hogwarts if you tried anything on me."

"Oh, great, Hermione," said Ron, "first you build him up, and then you threaten him. How do you think that makes him feel?"

You're right, Ron," she said. "Neville, I trust you regardless of who can fight better. By the way, when we have the nesting box ready, we'll have to borrow Trevor."

"Trevor?" asked Neville. "I can't give him up. I'm very fond of him. Why not some other toad?"

"It can't be a common toad," said Hermione. "It has to be a wizard's toad – they're magical. Otherwise a cockerel's egg would never hatch, much less produce a basilisk."

"But why Trevor?"

"Do you know anyone else with a pet toad, Neville?" asked Harry.

"No."

"Well, there you go. Hermione's right. We'll need Trevor. Before we go anywhere, though, I want you all with me as I run this by Dumbledore."

Harry pulled out his mirror and called Professor Dumbledore. They took turns explaining part of the plan.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, sending a ripple down his long beard. "Under other circumstances, I would put a stop to this. I am all for students trying new things, even quite dangerous things if they are prepared. But a basilisk goes beyond all sensible bounds. However, you have analyzed the situation accurately and there are no four students I know of whom I would rather have pursuing such a project. Go ahead." Then he added as he faded away, "And Harry, try to keep your temper."

"Yes Professor. Wait – how did he know? Oh, well, Remus must have already reported." Harry pulled out the small notebook and pencil he kept for jotting down information about attacks. He handed them to Hermione to write down the ingredients she would need from Diagon Alley. When she was done, he took it back and looked it over. "Ron, let's be off to talk to Fred and George; then we'll apparate to Hagrid's cabin to talk to him about our new pet."

"We'll go into the outbuilding to find a box we can modify," said Hermione. Then she continued, tentatively, "Erm, Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione."

"I thought Voldemort knew everything you consciously thought about."

"Yes, and vice versa," agreed Harry.

"So he knows now what we're planning."

"Yes."

"Isn't he going to do something to stop us?

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because he's sure we're going to screw up and petrify or kill half of his opposition. He's laughing his head off right now."

"Oh, that's comforting," said Hermione.

Harry laughed. "We've proved him wrong before. Let's do it again. I sure don't want to hear 'I told you so' echoing in my head from him."

"Right, Coach!" they all agreed.


	20. Raging

Chapter 19 Raging

That night Harry did not sleep well. He was pleased with the plan he, Hermione and Neville were working on, but he couldn't get Iphigenia McMillan off his mind. He remembered the way her eyes sparkled; then he remembered their lifeless aspect after the dementor's kiss. He remembered the graceful way she moved; and then he remembered her stumbling shuffle after the dementor's kiss. He remembered the beautiful way she talked of the interconnectedness of life; then he remembered her total mental vacancy after the dementor's kiss. He remembered the breathtaking way she sang about peace at church; then he remembered the aimless whistling and hissing she made after the dementor's kiss. He couldn't get her off his mind, and every time he tried to focus on how gracious she was before today, his mind was directed back to the emptiness of the shell left behind. He drifted off to a fitful sleep.

His dream started the same horrible way as his previous nightmare: images of Voldemort directing hundreds of followers to fan out over first Britain and then the world, like locusts, exterminating all resistance. But this time something new happened. He pictured himself and his friends in their Hogwarts' robes riding basilisks the size of the one he had killed in the Chamber of Secrets, as if they were so many fremen riding sandworms in Dune. They led their basilisks against Voldemort's forces and petrified them all. Harry and his friends laughed and celebrated at the destruction of Voldemort's forces. Looking out across the dead and petrified remains of Voldemort's legions, they all cheered and shook their arms in victory. And yet something wasn't right. Then Harry heard a cock's crow, and all the basilisks died. They all jumped down as the enormous snakes rolled. Each was separated from the others by the snake carcasses between them. The cock crowed again.

"Harry, Harry," he heard. "Aren't you getting up to run?" asked Neville, "Didn't you hear the cock crow? It's a new day."

Harry headed out for the morning run with Ron, Neville, and the rest from his room, all converging with the other trainees. As Harry entered the kitchen, he looked through a window and noticed what seemed to be sheep in the paddock.

"Neville," he said, "I didn't know Longbottom Manor raised sheep."

"Not in decades, Harry, and those are odd-looking sheep. They're normally pretty dingy and scruffy. These are shiny."

They headed out the door and started looking toward the paddock, when Harry was suddenly hit in a full body tackle by someone screaming, "Yeeeeeeeee-Haaaaw!" When Harry got his bearings, he found himself flat on his back in the yard, with Tonks astride him, waving her arms to the sky, a wand in one hand, and screaming jubilantly.

"I did it, Harry, I did it," she screamed, holding his shoulders. Then she bent over him and kissed him all over his face.

Harry lifted her by her shoulders to ask, "Did what? Give me a heart attack?"

"The sheep, Harry, the sheep! My patronus. That's the form of my patronus! I couldn't sleep after what happened last night. And I got to thinking how you said you loved me and I realized that that's the only reason you lost control that way, because you love me enough to do what you did. And I got up early and tried it out here to not bother people, and it worked! I've been making 'em for a half hour now, replacing the ones that melt away."

She bent back down toward him and started kissing all around his face again, in a way that reminded Harry of a large, exuberant puppy.

"Great, Tonks!" he said. "I'll have to make severe abuse part of my training regimen, I guess."

"Only from the heart, Harry!"

She lifted up and stretched her arms to the sky and again started screaming jubilantly, shaking her whole upper body in a way which could not but be noticed and appreciated by all the men assembled for the run, especially as Tonks was only in a half-length t-shirt and shorts. Hermione hit Ron in the arm as he watched. Ginny scowled angrily as she noticed that Harry had noticed.

"Woo-hoo!" Tonks continued, calling out to everyone around. "If any of you girls had your eye on him before, forget it! I'm claiming him! Any guy who can make me feel good enough to make these – EXPECTO PATRONUM – I'm going to keep!" Another sheep emerged from the wand when she made the incantation.

"Do I get a say in that, Tonks?" said Harry with bemusement.

"Nope, Harry, You men take too long to figure out what you want. The girls have to make the decisions. I've laid claim!"

"Whatever," said Harry. "Then I guess after breakfast you'll be ready to take on the lethifold."

Tonks suddenly stopped her celebration and got a terrified look on her face. "That thing! So soon?"

Harry suddenly got his own look of horror on his face and tried to pull himself out from under Tonks, "Eww, Tonks!"

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I hadn't had a chance to go to the bathroom this morning, and when you mentioned facing that monster, I …"

Everyone started laughing at Harry's predicament.

Tonks stood up and started to point her wand at Harry's midsection, saying, "Well, just let me clean you up."

Harry covered himself immediately, "Tonks! I've seen your 'clean-up' jobs. You just point that thing somewhere else."

"Ooh, Harry, I will if you will," said Tonks, looking down and smiling. "So you DO like me."

Harry frowned. "A young woman bouncing around on me that way? - What did you expect?"

Harry turned to Hermione. "Hermione, can you clean this up, please?"

"Hmm, you won't let me give you murtlap treatments, but you'll trust me to clean you up. Oh, all right, then. Scourgify."

Then they all set off for the morning run, with the constant stream of various crude and ribald jokes at Harry's and Tonks's expense distracting them all from the rigors. Harry noticed that Ginny made Luna run with her far on ahead out of earshot of the various jests.

At breakfast, Mrs. Longbottom and Moody insisted that Harry sit with them.

"Potter," growled Moody. "While they are here, the aurors are my responsibility. So what's this I hear from Lupin about you making one of my aurors cry? I don't think I like the idea of weepy aurors."

"I'm really sorry, Professor," said Harry. "I really didn't mean to be so hard on her. I just kind of lost control."

Moody laughed gruffly. "Don't be so serious, Potter. If she can't stand up to a boy …"

"I'm an adult now," Harry protested.

"You might be of age, but you're still a boy, Potter. You're a student and just look at those arms and legs – so scrawny it's pitiful."

"I'm stronger than I look – and more mature!"

"You've had to do your growing up, no doubt," said Moody, with a wink and a smile. "Nonetheless, if Tonks can't stand up to a youngster, she needs some toughening up."

"Not exactly that, Professor," said Harry. "We don't want her to lose the emotional and mental flexibility required for strong magic, particularly as a metamorphmagus."

Mrs. Longbottom and Moody both laughed appreciatively.

"Mr. Potter," Mrs. Longbottom said. "If Hogwarts needs a new teacher, I believe you are prepared to step right in."

"Thank you, Maam," said Harry, "but other than Defense, the only subjects I might be qualified in have professors that are too much of an asset."

"You're getting better at that, Harry," she replied, in a more personal, motherly voice.

"What's that, Maam?" asked Harry.

"Acknowledging others' good qualities without disparaging yourself. Maybe you're finally accepting that you are quite a talented wizard?"

"Sometimes. I can't deny that my coaching seems to pay off or that I pair off pretty well in a duel. But sometimes I still feel about magic like a little kid pressing his face against the candy store window."

"A mix is good, Harry," she said. "Even at my age, I still have that feeling at times."

They went on to discuss applying Harry's time more effectively. With Tonks finally having her corporeal patronus and needing only testing, they decided all would be best served if Harry participated in Moody's morning strategy and tactics classes, continue with counseling sessions with Reverend MacBoon and one hour patronus sessions for the Hogwarts students, which would include testing with the lethifold as needed, and spend the rest of his time in dueling, both on his own training and coaching others.

Then Moody coughed to get Harry's attention. "Potter, I thought I'd better give you a heads-up. The Ministry is considering asking DA members who are of age and qualified with apparition, patronus and dueling skills if they would be interested in volunteering to join the auror auxiliaries."

"I'll join," said Harry.

"Yeah, sure, Potter," said Moody. "You're about the only one they _wouldn't_ take. You're the sentry. You have to keep out of the fighting so you can feed us whatever information you can."

"I'm not comfortable sending my friends into battle like that."

"You wouldn't be sending them – the Ministry would."

"But I trained them," objected Harry.

"You trained them to protect themselves and others, and their talents are needed to do that. Your DA team leaders can match or beat any of the aurors in a duel. They're more than a match for all but the very best of the enemy forces," continued Moody.

"So you want them to do this while they have to prepare for NEWTs?" asked Harry.

"You're worried about their NEWTs, with all you're going to be doing while preparing for NEWTS?"

"Do I have any choice?" answered Harry. "Besides I don't have to prepare for the DADA Newt – I already have it."

"But you'll be spending more time than anyone working on defense skills anyway, won't you? Don't worry about your students and their NEWTS. They're so far ahead of any previous group of NEWT candidates on their practical magical skills that they can coast."

"Thanks to you, Mr. Potter," added Mrs. Longbottom.

"They work hard," said Harry.

"Because you lead the way," said Moody. "Anyway, don't say anything yet. The Minister is resisting asking students to participate, considering who would be first to volunteer."

Harry nodded. "You couldn't keep Ron or Ginny away, once she can apparate. Or Neville for that matter."

Mrs. Longbottom smiled. "Yes, you've made him a fighter, but he would be utterly unqualified, being unable to apparate or conjure a patronus."

"I don't think the maniacal rant would work on him the way it did for Tonks," Harry said with a frown, and then continued, "but maybe there's something I can do to help Neville and the sixth-years along on apparation. It helped so much that I already knew the feeling of it from having been apparated by Dobby last summer. Now that we are cutting back on Patronus sessions, how about if I take an hour or two in the afternoon right after lunch to show them the feeling of apparation. One day a week cover it and keep the feeling fresh in their minds. I'm not qualified to actually teach apparation, since I don't know the remedies, but I have tested out to apparate other people, so they can at least know how it should feel. And they'll only be more effective fighters the quicker they can learn to apparate."

Mrs. Longbottom and Moody both agreed that this would be helpful.

"And Mr. Potter," Mrs. Longbottom added, "I appreciate any extra effort you can put into Neville. You've helped him so much already, and I'd hate for him to spend a second year of apparation class splinching himself."

Harry shrugged. "I promise only my best effort, not miracles."

"For you, that's a very thin line, Mr. Potter," she said with a warm smile.


	21. Jealousy

Chapter 20 - Jealousy

At lunch, Harry was approached by Cho Chang.

"Harry," she said sweetly, "I've heard you've been looking for me."

He had previously approached her several times only to be brushed off, so Harry wondered why she would act as if it was something she had only just now heard about. Whatever the cause, he really wanted to talk about his feelings for Marietta with someone who also was friends with her.

"Yeah, Cho, there is something I want to talk with you about. How about if we meet right after dinner out at the gazebo? We shouldn't be disturbed there."

Cho smiled. "Okay, Harry, that'd be great. I'll meet you then." She went back to where she had been sitting for lunch with her friends, said a few words to them, and they giggled together. Harry felt like something was up, but he wasn't sure what.

Apparation sessions were to begin at the patronus practice room, since Harry had been using it all along. He and Remus started walking up there early. Harry figured they needed to discuss procedures for this, but there was something else on Remus's mind.

"So have you recovered from this morning, Harry?"

Harry blushed. "Physically, I guess. I'm still kind of embarrassed by it."

Remus smiled. "I can imagine. Are you going to take her up on it?"

"Who, Tonks? What do you mean?"

"She more than offered herself to you."

"Oh, she was just over-enthusiastic and demonstrative – you know Tonks."

"Hmm. I'm not sure she was just teasing, though."

"Oh, she's just a good friend: she's taken it upon herself to show me the sort of horseplay the aurors trade," protested Harry.

"There are worse bases for a relationship than friendship," said Remus.

"I suppose there are. I hadn't really taken it seriously. She just seemed giddy, but you seem to think there's something to it. Maybe I need to deal with it."

"I guess you should, Harry," said Remus. "If she really has romantic feelings for you, you could hurt her badly by being careless."

"You know, Remus, you're being quite protective of her. Are you sure you're not jealous?"

"Jealous? I can't be jealous. With my condition, I can't even think about falling in love," scoffed Remus unconvincingly.

"You're a healthy man, warm, caring, affectionate – how can you not think about love?"

Remus bowed his head. "It's just not possible."

"Remus, so what if you're out of commission one day a month. That's better than most. It's not like you're a drunk or a sports nut or something. Tonks has said before she would be happy to have you."

"It wouldn't be right, Harry," said Remus. "Too much risk."

"Well, then, what do you care who she sees?" prodded Harry.

"Don't you think she's a bit too old for you?"

Somehow this annoyed Harry. "She's closer to my age than yours. Maybe it'd be fun to spend some time with a more mature girl."

"She's not a 'girl,' Harry," said Remus tensely.

Harry smiled wickedly. "All the better!"

"Harry, I don't think it'd be wise."

"So give her an alternative!"

Remus sighed. "I'm sorry I brought it up, Harry. I don't want this to come between us."

"Neither do I."

"Right, then, let's get on with arrangements for these classes, and maybe a little time will give us both a better perspective."

During the apparition sessions, Harry was surprised to find nearly all of the girls he worked with smiling coyly at him. It was rather disconcerning, like they knew something about him, something that they particularly liked, but he had no idea what might have changed since he had worked with them the afternoon before. That reaction did not continue through the last two students for the sessions. The next to last sixth year to arrive was Ginny.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry said warmly, but not overly eager.

"Hello, Harry," replied Ginny stiffly.

Harry arched his eyebrows and smiled lightly. "I thought you said we were still friends."

"Of course, Harry," she replied, just as stiffly, with a half-hearted smile. Then she continued, "I'll bet that was a lot of fun for you this morning, eh?"

"This mo- …? Are you upset about Tonks? Oh, you know how she is. Don't be silly."

Ginny lost any hint of a smile. "Ah, I'm just a silly little girl then, is that it?"

"I didn't say that. But you know Tonks. She overdoes everything."

"Sure, Harry. And I'm sure that when she was shaking herself, with her t-shirt going every which way, you were looking up counting her nose hairs!"

"From where I was, it would have been pretty hard not to notice, Ginny. But I didn't ask to get jumped like that."

"You didn't make much of an effort to get up, did you?"

Remus saw the conflict and interrupted. "Harry, are you two going to talk or apparate?"

"Right, Remus, we'd better get on with more serious things," said Harry pointedly, and put out his hand for Ginny. She took it like she was about to hold Fang's slobbery tongue. Harry grasped her hand firmly and said, "We need solid contact if you want all of you to arrive." Then he disapparated to the far side of the greenhouses.

Ginny pulled her hand away. "I hear you have a date with Cho tonight."

"A date wi-…" Harry started. He wasn't going to play her game. "So what if I do - friend?"

"Oh, nothing, just small talk." She stuck out her hand, he grabbed it abruptly and apparated to the front porch.

"By the way, why haven't you had your family do this with you?" asked Harry.

She stuck out her hand again. "Who says they haven't?"

Harry grabbed her hand again and apparated into a greenhouse. "Ah, just wanted a chance to have some hand-holding then?"

"Yeah, right! As if! Don't expect me to drool over you like some girls do!" said Ginny sharply.

"You're friends with Tonks – why are you sniping about her?"

"I'm not sniping. I suppose she has her qualities. In fact, they're pretty much out there for anyone to see," said Ginny. She stuck out her hand. Harry grabbed it and apparated to the attic.

"Now you're being just plain catty. Two summers ago, you were giggling at Grimmauld Place with her," said Harry.

"Well, then she was more like an aunt or a big sister. Now, she's … different," said Ginny.

Yes, thought Harry, now you're treating her as competition – but why not then give an opening. "Let's focus on what we're supposed to be doing. Concentrate and feel what's happening when I take you places, uh I mean, apparate you." He took her hand and they apparated to the gazebo.

"Hmf," said Ginny. "Had to reconnoiter the site for your date tonight, I guess, make sure you have enough privacy?"

"Privacy?" snapped Harry. "I never have privacy! I've been watched virtually every second for years, and it's only getting worse. You have no idea what it's like to be in a fish bowl like that. So if I find a way to put that out of my head for a few minutes and spend some time with someone who will actually be nice to me, what's it to you, FRIEND?"

"Fine by me, Potter. Go have your time with the jiggly giggly girls. Have fun!"

Harry grabbed her hand and apparated her back to the room where Remus was waiting.

"Ah, Ginny, did you get the hang of it?" asked Remus.

"Put her down for another session, Remus," said Harry savagely. "She wasn't paying any attention to what she should have been."

"Professor," said Ginny, in mock sweetness. "Can you do my session next week? I'd like a teacher who has his students' interests at heart."

He looked at her with a frown. "Sorry, Ginny, I'm not rated to apparate people, and for good reason. And I have trouble believing you would suggest Harry doesn't care."

"Next week then," said Ginny, curtly.

As she left, Remus sidled over to Harry and whispered, "You certainly have a way with the ladies, don't you? I guess I don't have to worry about you and Tonks."

Harry glanced at him and shook his head incredulously.

Luna was next. Seeing Ginny glance back, he made a show of kissing Luna on the cheek. Ginny stomped off down the hall. Luna glared at him.

"Don't use me, Harry," said Luna. "That was not a natural display and we're not 'kissing' friends."

Harry stopped paying attention to Ginny and looked back at Luna. "I'm sorry, Luna. You're absolutely right. It's unfair of me to let things which happened with others affect our friendship. And I value it so much because you tell me so directly. Forgive me?"

"Of course, friend," she said sweetly. "I knew that wasn't the real Harry Potter doing that."


	22. Harry the Love God

Chapter 21 Harry the Love God

At dinner the Patil sisters steered Harry to a seat between them. They pulled their chairs so close to him that each one was brushing against an arm. Ron and Hermione found a couple of seats nearby. Harry noticed them whispering to each other as they cast furtive glances his way.

Harry had trouble eating. The Patil twins were leaning in so close to him that he could not well lift his hand to his mouth without brushing his arm against their bodies. They smiled at him and took a bite of food, which gave him a chance to get some himself. Before he could even put his arms back down, they leaned in again toward him. There was no avoiding it now: as he lowered his arms, they brushed rather snugly by the girls' breasts, whose soft but heavy subsidence told him that neither twin was wearing a bra. It was very thrilling in one sense, but Harry felt terribly uncomfortable as well.

They continued like this for several minutes, with Harry taking as much food as he could each time he got a chance at a bite, and the twins making it impossible for him to avoid contact with them.

"Harry," said one sister silkily, "we're so glad you could join us. You've been so busy with all the training we hardly ever get a chance to spend time with you."

Harry was not sure where this was headed, although he was pretty sure what the girls' intentions were, at least generally. As he looked at each of them, he had to admit that they had gone from being the prettiest girls in the class to being stunningly beautiful women, with large rounded dark eyes set in perfectly proportioned faces and set off by their smooth, cherrywood skin. All the exercise of the past year had only served to make what had been a delightful female form breathtaking. It was also unmistakable that they were wearing perfume – quite unusual thus far at training camp.

"Erm, well, Parvati …" said Harry then turning to the other side, and saying "Parvati?"

"I'm Parvati," said the first one to speak, placing her cool hand gently on his forearm. The touch of her hand on his skin sent a thrill down his spine, and elsewhere.

"Oh, sure, I'm sorry. You two look so much alike."

They both smiled. Padma placed her hand through the crook of his elbow and said, just as liltingly as her sister, "Oh, but there are ways to tell us apart – if you know where to look. We could show you."

Harry tried to stifle the look of shock he felt coming to his face. Ron had to bite hard into a roll to keep from laughing, while Hermione turned away and hid her face to hide her expression.

"Erm, well, I guess that won't so much matter when we get back to school. Your robes have your house symbols on them."

"Oh, of course," said Parvati, "but we don't always keep our robes on, you know, - or our other things."

Now Ron leaned very close to Hermione to whisper in her ear. She glanced at him, giving a small nod and a squeeze of his hand.

"Well, yeah, of course, I know, but it's never seemed to be a problem before."

"Well, that's because you've been so busy with other things, Harry," said Padma. "With all your obligations and stresses, you must be feeling a need to … unwind. We were hoping you could find a chance to spend some time with us."

"Erm, what, both of you?"

"Well, if you'd like – some boys rather like twins, you know," said Parvati.

Ron was so surprised at this he spurted pumpkin juice out his nose. Harry blushed furiously and the twins smiled serenely.

"Oh, erm," said Harry, standing up and stuffing as much food in his mouth as he could. "Excuse me – I just remembered, erm, some work I needed to do with Hermione on, erm, … counter-hexes. Hermione – can you join me?"

"Oh, it can wait, Harry. Have a seat," she said mischievously.

"No – it – can't!" he snarled.

"Oh, I suppose I've had enough then," she said, rising. "Ron, will you join us?"

Ron had figured where this was going and had been eating furiously. He nodded and shoved in a few more forkfuls and grabbed a couple of rolls.

"Later, then, Harry?" said Padma.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be around," said Harry, hurrying out of the dining hall.

"So will we," they said in harmony.

Harry led Ron and Hermione out to the front porch and paced back and forth, flexing his hands. Ron and Hermione were barely able to stifle their laughter at Harry's distress.

Finally Harry said, "Before I over-react, did I misunderstand what just went on there?"

Ron grinned even bigger. "I don't see how you could have. Even you."

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Well, let's find out – did you think they were about to ask you to join them in a rousing game of gobstones?"

Harry suppressed a giggle and said, "Uh, no!" and then he blushed.

"I can tell by your reaction," said Hermione, "that you understood them perfectly. They were not particularly subtle."

"Right then, we're all on the same page," said Harry. "Now you must have some idea, Hermione. What is going on? I had been trying to get Cho to talk with me about Marietta since she had been here, but she avoided me. Then all of a sudden, she's ready to talk, only she has no notion it was about Marietta and acts like it's going to be something cozy. Ginny sure thought I was going on a date with Cho, even so much as to know where we were to meet, and she wouldn't have even known I was meeting with Cho if Cho hadn't been saying something about it. A lot of the other girls have been unusually friendly as well. And now this with the Patils! What is up?"

Hermione smiled impishly. "Well, Harry, it seems that Tonks' little display this morning got the girls around here to realize that you're not a scrawny little geek but a hot property."

"A hot …Hermione!" sputtered Ron. "This is our friend Harry you're talking about."

"And I assume, Ron, that you have noticed that many of the girls you are truly just friends with are much more womanly now. You needn't deny it: I'm not offended and I'd find it quite curious if you hadn't noticed and even appreciated it. That doesn't mean you aren't still their friends. And it goes both ways: I can see a lot of ways in which Harry has become very desirable: he's still a friend, but I'm not oblivious. For a long time he was just scrawny, kind of distant and more than a little out of touch. During the Triwizard Tournament he was set apart and then for the past two years he has been so aloof – very understandable, mind you. But this year, he's gotten some height, he's more open and personable, he's grown into the leadership role, and yet he's just plain dashing either on the broom or during training. When we first got here, people just accepted the old roles, but Tonks shook that up by announcing romantic intentions, whether she meant it or not."

"Did she?" asked Harry. "I mean, did she mean it?"

"You'll have to ask her that yourself, Harry," said Hermione. "Truthfully I'm not sure she knows herself. She's emotionally very high right now, both over making her patronus and because you cared enough to show some intense emotion over her situation."

"Okay, I'll talk to her after her lethifold test tomorrow, if Remus doesn't freak out – he's all jealous."

"Oh, be careful, Harry, he's such a dear," said Hermione.

"What am I supposed to do? All I did in this was blow my top!" said Harry exasperatedly.

"I don't know. Maybe things will sort out a little when you talk to Tonks."

"Okay, Hermione," said Ron, "I can see Harry being seen as datable. But the Patils were suggesting a lot more than a simple date, and with no strings attached as far as I could tell."

"Well, Ron, you see, it's like this. Most of us didn't really make out what Tonks was screeching this morning. All most of the girls got out of what Tonks was saying was that the night before Harry had said he loved her and made her feel so good that she could now do a patronus."

"But all I was doing was yelling at her."

"They don't know that. The only ones who saw your tirade were Remus, Ron, Neville, Tonks and me, and none of us would go about gossiping about your temper. So it sounds like you professed love for her, lost self-control, and made her feel absolutely wonderful. And that is all true, after a fashion, but it has been interpreted differently. The word has gotten around that you are, erm, uniquely talented with women, uniquely talented at making women feel wonderful."

"WHAT?" said Ron and Harry together.

"Hey, Ron," added Harry. "You don't have to be quite so shocked."

"C'mon, Harry, it's me. I know you've only even kissed two girls on the lips in your life, except for those stunt kisses in the Ravenclaw dorm, and the first girl you kissed couldn't stop crying."

"Yeah, well, the second didn't seem to mind. She liked it very much, thank you."

"Fine, fine, you can snog, Harry," said Ron. "But it doesn't sound like that's all they're assuming about you."

"No, it's not," said Hermione, still quite amused. "I don't think they have any idea what it is you might do which would be so much better than any other reasonably attentive fellow could do, but they figure if you got to Tonks that much, and her being in her mid-20s, you must be some big time stud."

"Hermione!" said Ron.

"Well, what other term should I use? A 'Casanova'?"

"Huh, I thought that was a dance."

"That's a _bossa_ nova, Ron."

Harry tilted his head toward her. "Now Hermione, when the women first got this notion, they must have asked you about what you might know."

Hermione grinned mischievously. "They might have done."

"You played them, Hermione!" said Harry, "Just what did you say?"

"Well, I admitted that I overheard what happened between you and Tonks."

"And what did you tell them you heard?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"I said that I had never heard two people so loud and passionate."

"Passionate? I was as mad as an insulted hippogriff."

Hermione laughed, "Yes, that's one sense of 'passionate.' Can I help it if I was misunderstood?"

"Something's gotten into you, Granger, you never were a joker before. It must be your fault, Ron."

"What, me? This is her mess, but we can deal with it. Hermione – you just tell all the girls that Harry hasn't got a clue, that he doesn't know which end is up."

"Oh, thanks, Ron," said Harry. "I sure want them to think that. And I do know which end is up!"

"It's just an expression," said Ron.

"Oh, Harry, I hadn't intended to let it go on very long," said Hermione. "So what are you thinking? That you want them to think you're a real operator?"

"It's better than being thought an idiot."

"Until you prove where the truth lies."

"I reckon you're right," said Harry, "only I don't necessarily have to prove anything. Or maybe I could learn what I need to know. It's kind of nice getting the attention, now that I know where it's coming from."

"But who would you learn from?" asked Hermione, and then she turned to Ron, "And don't you dare volunteer."

"What? I know a little."

"I know," said Hermione dryly. "Harry, do you really want to play around like that?"

"I don't think I would even so much play around. I really haven't all that much free time. I do have a few things on my plate, you know. But it really feels so nice to get this kind of attention. You sure didn't mind it when you were asked to the Yule Ball," said Harry. "Oh, don't even say anything, Ron – she would have gone with you if you hadn't been … well, as big a git as I was."

"So you aren't even going to take them up on what they may be offering?"

"I've learned enough to know I'm more likely to get attention if I don't say yes, but don't quite say no."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of a Harry Potter who plays people."

"Like _you_ never have, Hermione," said Harry with a glance toward Ron.

Hermione blushed. "But ... you're different."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry sadly. "I can never forget I'm different. I'm a marked man," he added, pointing to his scar. "I have a direct pipeline into the mind of Voldemort and it goes both ways. It's fallen on me to train the entire student body to defend themselves, and I don't have it in me to do otherwise because I care so bloody much for every one of you. And through all that, I have to be ready at all times because I've got a big target on my back for every dark wizard in the country."

"Probably the world," corrected Ron. Hermione thumped him in the chest.

"I'm an orphan because of whatever it is that sets me apart, and I was raised being told I was loathsome. Even with things better now, the pain of that does not go away easily. You two were cherished by your parents: you don't know what being brought up like I was does to a child. When I came to Hogwarts, and learned that I could actually have friends," Harry continued, placing a hand on a shoulder of each, "that was the most magical development of my life. So if I want to feel connected with humanity, and appreciate the opportunity to do so in very human ways, I hope you can understand."

"You got it, mate," said Ron.

"Of course, Harry," said Hermione, "and you deserve to do so. Just remember you are dealing with people, not things."

"Have I ever neglected that?"

"Well …"

"Recently?"

"No," said Hermione with a smile, "you've cared for those around you for them, not for what they can do for you."

"And in all honesty, I don't think I'll be doing anything different. But now that I'm getting a bit of attention, just as a man, don't be so quick to yank it away."

Then as an afterthought, Hermione added, "What about Ginny? I thought you liked her."

"I was ready to head that way, but it takes some time for feelings to grow and she barely gives me the time of day."

"But Ginny cares a lot for you."

"Oh, yeah," said Harry sarcastically, "that's why she tore into me like I was Draco today."

"She didn't!" said Ron.

"She did," said Harry.

"But I know she likes you – aah, that's it – she heard the other women talking too. That's what's got her miffed."

"Well, if that's miffed, I'd hate to see her angry."

"Trust me, Harry, you DO NOT want to see her angry," assured Ron.

"But Harry, she wouldn't have gotten angry if she didn't care about you," said Hermione, "just like you wouldn't have gotten angry with Tonks if she wasn't important to you."

"Yeah, well, I'm getting a bit tired of having to figure out what game she's playing each day. She can go cop whatever attitude she wants, but I'm not going to keep playing that game. I've got enough other 'issues' to deal with. I've accepted that and all the work I have to do, but I have to include some pleasantness. I never know when I'm going to be in a life-or-death battle. I think it's time to have a bit more of the sweetness in life, and I'm not going to get that moping over someone who won't give me a chance!"

"Can we talk about this again later, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry softened his stance. "Of course, Hermione. I almost always value your reaction to things."

"And maybe Remus or Reverend MacBoon can talk with you about women, too. You need someone sort of like a father."

Harry nodded. "I'm glad you didn't suggest Moody."

"Well, he's sort of like a father, but not the kind you need right now."

"That's for sure."

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, "do you mind if I borrow Hedwig for a letter to my parents? Pig is busy."

"Sure," said Harry. "She needs a good long flight."

Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, aren't you late for your date with Cho?"

Harry quickly checked his watch and then disapparated. In a second, he reapparated and said, "It's not a date!" and then disapparated again.

It occurred to Harry as he tried to talk to Cho that this meeting was something of a mirror-image of his first appointment with Cho, in which he had expected to be more focused on just them, and Cho wanted to talk about Cedric. In the gazebo, Cho was acting like Harry had asked her for a romantic evening and Harry kept trying to steer the talk toward Marietta, so that he could let out some of the pain he still felt over her death. Apparently Cho had moved on more easily.

It would have been easier to admit that he was not comfortable with a romantic relationship until he had dealt with these feelings, but that would have required him admitting that nothing more exciting than a blown temper had occurred with Tonks the night before. And if that came out, then it would be clear that he was just about as clueless around girls as he had been two years before. Harry didn't understand a whole lot about girls, but he could see that as long as it appeared that he was interesting to one girl, there were a lot of others who became intrigued. It reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon's talk of using a shill to drive up interest in a product – the shill was an undisclosed partner of the salesman who would act very interested in the product so that all the customers would think that this was the best product to have. Well, in this market male companionship was the product, and Harry enjoyed being thought of as the best product – even if deep down he really felt more often like the little boy in the oversized hand-me-down clothes who stared stupidly at the portal to Platform 9 ¾ six years earlier.

Finally Harry came up with an angle that got Cho to respond. He told her that he felt guilty about dating her best friend last year. Cho nodded gravely, as if this was a serious offense.

"Yes, erm, and I would not feel comfortable continuing our … friendship until we had cleared the air fully of our feelings about Marietta." He had let the word friendship tarry so as to suggest that he felt he had to use a more innocuous term than he felt. "Or else we'll always have that between us."

That seemed to do the trick. Cho accepted that they needed to have a long talk about Marietta, just as they had about Cedric the year before. She was surprised to learn how much of a relationship Harry and Marietta had. Harry explained that Marietta felt she was violating a code among girls about dating friends' ex-boyfriends. Cho laughed appreciatively and said that Marietta was one of the few girls who would worry about such a thing when it came to a desirable boy. She said it was mostly cited as an excuse to gracefully turn down a date with a boy when other girls had made poor reports about him. They were interrupted once by Harry having to call Remus to send out auror teams. After they had talked and cried over Marietta for well over an hour, they both said how much better they felt. Then they hugged.

"So, Harry," said Cho, tilting her head so that she was looking up though a few strands of hair, "maybe now we can take a walk and talk about … other things?"

"Oh, uh, that would be nice, Cho," said Harry cautiously, "but I have to talk to Remus about the attack and get the results."

"Harry, can't you let go of the responsibility for a little while? Professor Lupin and the aurors know what they're doing. Or maybe it's the acting Minister that you don't think is up to the job?"

"No, they all are good."

"Then do you have to carry all the burden of the world? Or were you just _using_ me to get your feelings off your chest?"

Somehow the word "using' struck a chord with Harry. He didn't like to think that he was using someone, or for them to think he was. But what had he really done? He sought out the mutual friend of a deceased friend to talk out feelings. She's the one who wanted to make a romantic time out of this. And yet Harry felt like he was backed into a corner where he was either saying all he wanted her for was someone to dump his feelings on or he had to go along with a romantic stroll.

He chose the romantic stroll – 'how do girls do that?' he asked himself. But there were worse things than spending an hour with an attractive young woman, walking in the countryside by moonlight, putting an arm around her when she said he was getting chilled (Harry doubted this was so, but couldn't just call her a liar), and eventually sharing some snuggling and snogs. At least this time the kisses weren't teary – or brief. A small part of his brain was saying "how did I get into this?" but most of the rest of his mind was saying that this wasn't too bad.

In the morning, Harry rose bright and early for the morning run feeling particularly energized. As he joined the gathering crowd for the run, Cho caught his eye and gave a sly smile and winked at him. He smiled warmly back. She started to come over to him when Ron and Hermione came up and started asking about how his planned talk with Cho had gone. Before he could even begin, though, they heard Hedwig returning with a message. She flew directly to Hermione, who removed the parchment addressed to her from Hedwig's leg.

"Oh, good, I've been trying to get my parents to use parchment for owl posts," she said. "They've been reluctant. They usually use wood-pulp note paper and wrap it in plastic wrap against the weather."

She unrolled the parchment and unfolded it, "Oh, a hundred-pound note. Must be for my books."

Hermione reached for the bill in the parchment and as she touched it, she disappeared. Left behind, under where the bill had been, were an address and a note that said, "She has five minutes to live."


	23. Ambush

Chapter 23 Ambush

"Hermione!" screamed Ron, grabbing the letter before it even hit ground. His hands shook as he held it.

Harry read the note over Ron's shoulder. "Got your wand?"

Remus started toward them. "Harry, you can't …"

Before the statement was finished, Harry had disapparated with Ron.

They appeared on the roof of an abandoned row house in Liverpool, next door to the address on the parchment. To each side the row houses stretched to the ends of the block. To the front there was a road: most of the street lights were broken, but they could make out some parked cars, a few up on blocks, and a couple of rental lorries parked at the curb. Behind was a trashy alley with another block of row houses facing the next street. They could just make out the early morning glow of the sun behind those.

Harry marveled as he quickly got his bearings how the presence of magical objects could be felt and sorted out when one focused on it. It reminded him of how he could walk by a park and not notice any one person in particular, but if he needed to find someone, he could focus his attention to sort it out. Or when one is talking amongst a crowd and there is a general noise, but you can still make out what the person you are talking to is saying.

"She's inside," said Harry quietly, "or at least, her wand is. Feel it?"

"Yeah, and seven others, besides. This has to be an ambush. They knew you'd come for her. Does your scar tell you anything?" whispered Ron.

"No. That's odd," remarked Harry, searching through Voldemort's reactions, "He knows what we know and he's just as concerned as we are. He would be here himself to break this up, but for concern that …" Harry trailed off.

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm not too fussed at not meeting him, if it's all the same with you."

"Well, if it's his people, they are doing it on their own. They must be desperate to get to me. There don't seem to be any wands outside; they must have planned on getting me inside. Look, there's a basement entrance we can use in the alley. They won't be able to see us there."

They apparated to a well that had steps down from the alley to the basement door. Rather than a proper latch, it was held closed by a deadbolt with a padlock. Harry pointed his wand and whispered "Alohamora," and the padlock fell open. As he did this, Ron pointed his wand at each of the hinges of the door and the deadbolt and said 'Lubrio' in turns. The bolt and door opened without a squeak.

"Good one – I've never seen that," whispered Harry.

"Dad used to use it on the car, before we, erm, …"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know."

They saw a coal chute. Harry nodded toward it and Ron apparated behind it. He was thankful it was still half-dark outside so his eyes did not need much adjustment to the light. He gestured to Harry, who came in cautiously.

"Lumos," they both whispered as they scouted around the cellar. Finding nothing, they approached the stairs. They had to consciously force themselves to calm down rather than bull forward heedlessly. This was not helped by the rapid beating of their hearts. They stopped before stepping on the wood of the stairs, assuming it would creak.

"Hold on," whispered Ron, pulling out an extendable ear. He pushed the listening end toward the crack in the door. "I can hear breathing and shuffling. There are several people in there. That seems to be the general area of most of the wands, too."

"They probably are aware of us, too, but they wanted us to come through so they could ambush us," whispered Harry.

"Well, that's the way to get to Hermione, so we'll have to do it soon."

"I'll create a diversion and then take this lot. From where this room is, there has to be a door to the left to the rest of the house. After a slow count of three after I disapparate you head for it."

"Careful, mate," whispered Ron.

Harry nodded, and then with a flick of his wand, whispered "Accio lorry."

In seconds a huge crash was heard on the other side of the wall. There was shouting and the tinkling of glass and metal hitting the floor. With both wands drawn, Harry apparated on top of the lorry which was now occupying most of what he found was the kitchen. He began firing stunners at anything moving, blocking any spells that came anywhere near him, and re-apparating around the room too quickly for the others to respond. On the count of three, Ron burst through the cellar door and then through the door to the dining room.

Harry heard an exchange of spells and then the sound of stomping up the stairs. He heard Ron say, "Hermione, are you alright?" He did not hear Hermione respond, but then he heard feet going up the stairs again, this time more cautiously.

Having stunned the four wizards and one witch in the kitchen, Harry approached the dining room door and peeped through it. He saw Hermione in her running shorts and t-shirt in a corner in a wooden chair, with elaborate bindings around her lower legs, which were pulled back by a rope under her chair. Her arms were pulled back and together behind the chair. She had a gag cutting deeply in her mouth, but she was not blindfolded. At that moment an exchange of spells was heard upstairs. Hermione looked up there and then toward Harry. She nodded her head toward the stairs.

Harry started running toward the stairs, and then he jumped to the side and gave a wave with his left hand wand while quickly saying 'Deflecto.' At the same time, Hermione's left arm was coming forward from behind the chair and there was a flash and a loud crack. Without pause, with his right hand, Harry made a slashing gesture across his neck and hissed "Asseverate." Hermione's head, sliced neatly from her body, fell to her left, while her body fell to the right, with a pistol still in her hand. Harry heard Ron grunt, and then fall down the stairs.

On hitting the stairs' landing, Ron looked into the dining room, saw Hermione's head separate from her body, and screamed.

"Ron, are you alright?" said Harry urgently, kneeling next to his best friend, seeing a large and growing circle of blood on his running shorts and underneath his thigh.

"You bastard, you killed Hermione!" Ron shouted bitterly, starting to raise his wand against Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Harry before Ron could pronounce a spell. "Ron, it's not Hermione. Trust me - it's a witch with polyjuice, maybe a metamorphmagus. Stay down there - hold your wound to slow the blood. I'll see if Hermione's up there. Here's your wand back."

Harry cautiously made his way upstairs. He found the limp body of a wizard in foreign-style robes where Ron had stunned him. He conjured bindings and took the wizard's wand. He heard a thumping sound coming from one bedroom. Checking the other rooms as he went, he made his way to that room, checked around and heard that the thumping was coming from a closet. From around the corner of the door, he waved his wand at the closet door and it opened. He saw Hermione on the floor, tied up, with a gag in her mouth. All her clothes but her knickers had been removed for the use of the faux-Hermione. She was thumping her head against the floor – the only part of her body she could move. The closet was clearly otherwise empty. She stopped thumping on seeing Harry.

He smiled at her. "Now isn't this a pretty picture. Maybe I should go back and get Colin, so we can remember this moment."

She glared at him. Words were not necessary to express what she was thinking.

"Finite Incantatem," said Harry, and the gag and ropes disappeared. "Are you okay?"

She nodded and began stretching her stiff joints. "A headache from the stunner is all. That was quick work. Is everything else handled?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Ron and I didn't waste any time, but I'm betting there are people sweating bricks back at the manor. C'mon, Ron needs you – he's been hurt, shot in the leg, at the bottom of the stairs. But don't look in the sitting room – face the other way. I've got to bind the rest."

"I don't suppose you know if anyone's gone to check on my parents – somehow they got Hedwig, and I've been so worried they were waiting at my parents for her."

"The thought crossed my mind, but there was no time to find out. I rather suspect they were not far from the manor looking for a snowy owl, since Hedwig's the only one in Britain I know of. When I can call Remus, I'll make sure someone goes there."

Hermione found an old sheet, which she wrapped around herself like a toga, and hurried to Ron, as Harry headed for the kitchen to bind the rest. As Harry re-emerged from the kitchen, he found Hermione kneeling next to Ron. She had torn off one end of the sheet and was using it as a compress on the bullet hole in his leg. But she was not looking at Ron – she was staring into the sitting room with a look of horror on her face. Ron had reached up and was giving her a comfort pat on her side. Harry went to the corpse on the floor, retrieved Hermione's wand and handed it to her.

"You can't say I didn't warn you," he told her sympathetically. "I really didn't want you to see this."

"She looks just like me, but ghostly pale," said Hermione haltingly, "how did you know to …" She stopped and made a gesture toward her throat.

"I've been suppressing legilemency around my friends. I stopped suppressing it once Ron and I were in a battle situation. At first I thought it odd that you would be left with your wand, and then when she looked at me and I could see her intentions to shoot me, there was no doubt. I knew you couldn't do that even under an Imperius curse. They were unaware of my legilemency, apparently. Or maybe they hoped I would be unable to strike against someone who looked like you. But to a legilemens the resemblance was only slight, like a distant cousin with a similar chin."

"When I thought you had killed her, mate, I was ready to …" Ron started but squeezed his eyes shut when he could not finish the thought.

"Of course, Ron. I can't say as I blame you. I'd be disappointed if you felt otherwise. I'd do the same to anyone who hurt her."

"Well, that's really sweet, but I'm mad at you two for rushing in here without support," scolded Hermione. "But - I can see the need for a speedy response, and I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be rescued by. What can I do to thank you?"

"For me," said Harry, "just taking care of him will do nicely. When I deflected the bullet, I had no idea it would catch him through the wall."

"Yes, Hermione, take care of me," said Ron, grinning. "I'm going to need lots of care."

"Hmm, you seem to be recovering pretty well already," said Hermione with a smile, "but I do believe you deserve the hero treatment." Then she leaned down and gave him a tender kiss and whispered, "that's just for starters."

"I hope you two don't mind," she continued, as she stood up, unwrapped her sheet-toga and put it over the corpse on the floor, "but I cannot bear to have her in view like that."

"Hermione!" said Ron, wide-eyed.

"Oh, Ron, Harry saw me like this upstairs, and you would have sooner or later – I can't say this is the circumstance I would have hoped for, but that's just ghastly," indicating the beheaded Hermione under the sheet. "I needn't hang on to modesty over respect for life and death. I'm afraid that before this war is over, we may lose a lot more than our modesty: let's hold on to what really matters."

Harry smirked. "Well, I know which sight I prefer."

"Ay, mate" said Ron, "Turn away – that's my girlfriend."

"Oh, Ron, that's the first time you've actually said that!" exclaimed Hermione, bending down and kissing him again, this time giving him a hug a well. Ron blushed furiously as her body brushed over his arms.

Harry felt a pang of jealousy, not over Hermione personally, but at the two of them having someone special in their lives. He realized all his talk the night before about playing around was foolishness. That wasn't the kind of guy he was: he wanted just to give and receive love from one person, and have it be special. He turned away.

"I'd better call Remus," he said. "I imagine there's quite the panic going on right now."

"Well, it's one thing for you two to see me this way, quite another for all the aurors to. Ron, keep your leg raised and hold that compress tight there – and hold that thought. I'll just go see about getting another sheet or something."

Hermione turned and bounced up the stairs. She could have bounded two or three stairs at a time, or climbed them more smoothly, but she knew full well that only Ron could see her after the first step. She felt wonderful about the rescue and wanted to put on a bit of a show for him. She also knew just what effect this would have on him. At the top of the stairs she turned and winked at him.

Harry pulled the mirror from the fanny pack he used for running. "Remus, Remus, are you there?"

"Of course I am, Harry. What happened? Is everyone alright?"

"It was an ambush: they used Hermione to get at me."

"Well, of course, it was an ambush, you dolt! What do you mean by going off like that without support?"

"I had Ron. That's plenty of support. They underestimated us. It wasn't even a fair fight. But now, Ron's got a bullet wound in his thigh. It's not spurting so it doesn't seem to have hit an artery. Hermione and I are fine, a bit shaky, I guess. We have six live captives and one corpse to remove. Better send aurors and whoever else needs to be sent in these situations."

"Of course, Harry, but where are you?"

"Oh, yeah, Ron still had the parchment when we left. Ron, give me the parchment."

"I dropped it on the roof, Harry. I didn't think we'd need it."

Harry looked around and found an envelope with an address.

"Yeah, this sounds like the one on the parchment."

He showed it to Remus.

"Oh, and Remus, we're worried that this lot may have done something to Hermione's parents when they were trying to intercept Hedwig. Can someone go check on them?"

"Already done, Harry. The only clue we had was that Hermione was not surprised that Hedwig had come with a letter that seemed to be from her parents. A couple of aurors here who know how to look muggle went to their house to check on them. They're still snug in their beds."

"So they weren't awakened to tell them their daughter had been kidnapped?"

"Why worry them – what could they contribute? This wasn't about money. Now we can check with Hermione before either telling them ourselves or letting her do it. In either case, they'll know that no harm was done."

"Okay, makes sense."

By then, ten aurors from the training camp had arrived, including Tonks. Several of them blanched when they looked under the sheet at the headless body on the floor. Dawkins had to run for the front door to throw up.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?" Tonks asked him gently, looking into his eyes, "you seem a bit wonky."

"I've never killed before. I know I've seen deaths before, even had some role in … someone's ... death. But I never had to do the killing before."

She nodded and hugged him, rubbing his back. "It had to be done, you know."

"I know. At least my head says so. But it still makes me queasy."

"Good. I'd hate for you to take killing lightly. That wouldn't be the wonderful young man I know," reassured Tonks. "You understand we're going to have to go to the Ministry, don't you? Lots of paperwork when someone's killed."

Harry nodded. "I figured as much. Any chance I could see Mr. Weasley? I know he's busy, but …"

"I'll send a message. Of course, there aren't many people even at the Ministry yet, so we won't know for a while. I'm sure we couldn't keep Molly away, at least once she's checked on Ron."

"That would be super," said Harry, "and can you stay with me at the Ministry? – I need a friend there."

She smiled. "I'm sure that can be arranged. You did great here today, kid. Awesome work with the lorry – that must have caught them off-guard. Be proud."

Harry smiled, "I'm sure Moody'll have plenty to say about being rash."

"Someday, we'll have to fill you in on some of his scrapes. He earned his paranoia the hard way. He would have done the same thing you two did as a young auror, probably by himself. How do ya reckon he got so many scars? Don't worry - we can handle him."


	24. Soldier's Choice

Chapter 24 Soldier's Choice

Harry's reception at the Ministry was nothing like it had been on other visits. Although it was still very early, there were still a number of early arrivals, and Harry was greeted with smiles and waves all around. Whether everyone actually felt so warmly toward him or not, with Arthur Weasley on his way to confirmation as Minister of Magic, everyone was going to appear well-disposed toward Harry Potter.

At least this was mostly so: Percy Weasley had arrived very early and Harry tried to call to him. Although Harry normally suppressed legilemency, he was going to use it on this occasion to try to figure out why Percy had been acting the way he had done for the past couple of years. It was similar to checking the aurors he was rooming with – Harry needed to know who was reliable and who might be an enemy. However he did not get the chance: Percy averted his eyes and rushed into the stairwell.

It was painful for Harry to visit the lobby where he had seen Dumbledore fight Voldemort and where Voldemort possessed him. At least now he was holding his own against Voldemort, but he knew he had to be on constant guard. The fountain was apparently being rebuilt, but there was a curtain around it. Harry started to head over to take a peek at how it had been rebuilt, but Tonks caught his arm.

"Don't chance it, Harry, Arthur got the twins to put a protective spell on it. Only certain people can open it safely. Goodness knows what those two dreamed up."

"Under other circumstances, I'd try it just to find out, just like they did for the Goblet of Fire. But I'm not in the mood for such play right now."

"Understandable. How about some breakfast at the cafeteria first?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess I am pretty hungry. It's sort of been a busy morning and it's ...," he checked his watch, "not even 7 o'clock yet!"

"Yeah," giggled Tonks, "when some guys say they want some early morning action, they're talking about something entirely different – you go wipe out a gang of dark wizards."

Harry sighed. "I don't suppose they serve butterbeer at this hour, do they?"

"For breakfast? Sorry, buddy, if you start having a butterbeer every time you get into a scrape, there'd be none for the rest of us. You'll have to settle for quince juice."

"I know. You're right. I guess I was looking for some easy comfort," said Harry.

"Well, I know something healthier," said Tonks, giving him a big, long hug, which he returned gratefully.

They were interrupted by an enthusiastic hoot. "Woo-hoo!" They recognized the voice as Dawkins. He and the other aurors were returning from Liverpool to put the captured wizards in temporary holding cells and fill out reports. Tonks and Harry quickly separated.

"Can it, Dawkins," said Tonks.

"You never hug me like that, _Nymphadora,_" said Dawkins with a grin.

"You knock out in one mission as many enemy as Harry did this morning, and I'll hug anything of yours you want hugged."

"Ooh, nice offer."

"Yeah, I'm real scared I'll have to pay off," Tonks replied sarcastically.

Dawkins grinned at her. "You never know what can happen with motivation like that. Good job out there, Potter. You aren't just talk."

"Thanks," said Harry.

"Only wish you could have given 'em all the …" and he made the slitting gesture across the throat. "It'd make our job easier if they were like Sonja."

"Uh-uh. One is enough, if she hadn't had a muggle weapon I wouldn't have even killed _her_ – I don't think."

"Quiet, Harry," said Tonks. "Save it for the reports. You start speculating and these guys will have to create a mess of a report that'll take you a year to sort out. You let me take you through the process. You talk when I say you can talk, okay?"

"She's right, Potter," said Dawkins. "We're all on your side here, but we've got to play it straight. Save the self-doubt for a padre."

"Dawkins, did you say that was Sonja? Soderberg?" asked Tonks.

"Right, Tonks. One and the same. The Swedes will be glad to scratch her off their list."

"I'll say, nasty piece of work, she was," said Tonks. "Harry, she wasn't a terribly talented witch, but she was as vicious, ruthless and cunning an assassin as Bellatrix LeStrange. She's been responsible for at least two dozen murders that we know about. It doesn't take magic to be a nasty piece of work. There'll be aquavit toasts raised to Harry Potter in Stockholm tonight."

After breakfast, Tonks took Harry to her desk to fill out the necessary paperwork. To Harry's surprise her cubicle was as neat as a pin.

"Blast," said Tonks, "someone's been messing with my desk during training. It'll take me forever to find things."

"That's a relief," said Harry.

"What, that this will take half again as long?"

"No, Tonks, that you didn't keep a desk so out of character for you," he said with a smile.

"That's my guy," she said, grinning and ruffling his hair. "It'll be rough getting over this, but you just keep your feet on the ground. You want to make jokes about me? – you go ahead. I'm big enough to take it. We can't afford to have you out of commission."

The paperwork wasn't too bad: lots of blanks to fill out, but Tonks had a special quill which did that, and unlike Rita Skeeter's quill, it wrote what was said and even made corrections when asked. Tonks shepherded him through a description of the fight that left the least questions to be asked. A little after 10 o'clock, Tonks got a note saying that Arthur Weasley would like to see them, and that she should bring all the paperwork.

"Well, you wanted to see Arthur," said Tonks. "Let's go."

As they walked to and then rode up in the elevator, Harry remembered very vividly his encounter with Lucius Malfoy two years earlier after his trial, when he found Malfoy plying then-minister Fudge with galleons. He smiled inwardly at how things had changed. Even though Lucius Malfoy had been broken out of his cell in a raid staged during the Battle of Hogwarts, he was discredited and had to stay hidden. Fudge was no longer Minister, and indeed no longer alive, killed by Dobby when Fudge tried to kill Harry. Harry thought it odd that he hadn't been much distressed over Dobby killing Fudge when Fudge had tried to kill Harry, and he certainly thought no less of Dobby for it; yet he felt very distressed at doing essentially the same thing to a witch who had also been trying to kill him.

After getting out on Level 1, they went to the door which had once led to Fudge's office and knocked. The acting Minister of Magic himself opened the door and warmly received them.

"Tonks, Harry! It's good to see you both! It's a shame it had to be like this," said Arthur. He shook Harry's hand, but Harry found himself at first unable to speak, as he stared at the mirrored wrap-around sunglasses Arthur was wearing. Finally he caught himself.

"Any word on Ron?"

"Oh, yes, Harry," said Arthur. "He'll be fine - back at training by the end of the day tomorrow. Molly and Hermione are with him now and all his brothers have visited him." Then Arthur took on a darker aspect and added, "Well, almost all."

"Percy?"

Arthur nodded.

Harry also nodded. "He averted his eyes and rushed right past me this morning."

"He gets here very early and stays in areas of the Department of Mysteries where I can't go."

"You're the acting Minister – why wouldn't you be able to go everywhere?"

"That's just the problem. I'm a target, particularly for legilemens, so the details of the biggest secrets have to be kept from me. That's why I'm wearing these sunglasses that threw you off so much - they've blocked other legilemens we've tried them out on. Give 'em a go – from what I hear you're the strongest legilemens I'll live to meet but Dumbledore."

"You sure you want me to?" asked Harry.

"It's best we test them."

Harry focused and tried to read any sign of Arthur's thoughts. "Nothing – without a good view of the eyes, the only mind I can read is Voldemort's – oh, and sometimes I can understand a little of my own."

Arthur and Tonks laughed as Arthur gestured to invite Harry to sit in a chair near the desk. "That's about all the understanding of our own selves I think any of us have. You know, if it had been up to me, I would've sacked Percy entirely. But Dumbledore said we should keep an eye on him. I offered to put him in house-elf placement or exploding toilets, but Dumbledore wanted him in the Department of Mysteries. It doesn't make sense to me, but Dumbledore only interferes on things he thinks are important, and he always keeps his cards close to the robe. Speaking of Dumbledore, he wants to speak with you and me. Tonks, could you wait outside for a few minutes. You probably have time to get a cup of coffee or tea, if you'd like."

"Sure, shall I bring some for you two, also?"

"Coffee for me," said Arthur.

"I'll have some tea, if you wouldn't mind," said Harry.

"Like you had it at Arabella's? Right, then."

When she had left, Arthur sealed the door with his wand, activated the soundproofing, and asked Harry to call Dumbledore on the mirror.

"Hello, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I have the general idea of what happened. Let's get right to the details. First, I want to hear exactly what you remember, particularly your thoughts at each stage."

Harry described from Hedwig's approach until he had retrieved Hermione from the closet.

"Harry, there were a number of ways that you could have disabled Miss Soderberg without killing her. Why did you choose the severing hex?"

"Well, I couldn't use Expelliarmus on a muggle weapon – I tried that in Gringotts' basement with the stiletto."

"But Harry, you deflected the bullet with your left hand wand. You still could have disabled her. Think hard. I know it was a split-second decision."

"Alright, then. I saw her look upstairs and I felt the presence of the wand and thought it was strange that Hermione would be kidnapped and still have her wand. I started for the stairs as she looked back at me and gestured that way with her head. And I saw into her mind that she wasn't Hermione and that she intended to shoot me, and then I remember two thoughts: first the shock and revulsion at someone like that assuming Hermione's form and the thought that she wasn't the right person to kill me."

Dumbledore cocked his head. "The thought was that she was 'not the right person' to kill you, rather than you weren't going to let her kill you."

"Yes, sir."

"Was that YOUR thought?"

Harry looked deep into his mind, and then responded, "No, it was Voldemort's. And it was his selection of the severing hex. He wanted her dead but he did not want me to use an Unforgiveable Curse, in case the Ministry might enforce that law even against me. I remember now that he had avoided coming there to stop things out of concern that in the ensuing melee, someone else might kill me. He is certain that only he should be the one to kill me."

"Harry," said Dumbledore quietly, "does Voldemort know the Prophecy?"

Harry hesitated a second and then admitted, "Yes, sir; he knows everything I know, and I know what he knows."

"Then it is time to share the content of the Prophecy with the members of the Order who don't yet know it. We'll hold a meeting. We'll have to assess how this affects our strategies. You understand you'll be unable to attend?"

Harry nodded and then added, "But the Prophecy's not the only reason he believes he has to be the one who kills me. Or maybe this reason is the fulfillment of the Prophecy. His understanding of the failed killing curse is that it is merely incomplete, and that until one of us completes it by killing the other, we are symbiotic with each other through our magical powers."

Arthur frowned. "I'm afraid I didn't quite follow that."

Dumbledore explained, "It means that when Voldemort tried to kill Harry, their spirits, through their magical abilities, became fused. They are distinct, but joined. That's how the killing curse works - normally the attacking wizard's spirit joins with and extracts the spirit of the victim, similar to a dementor's kiss, but extracting life as well. But Harry hung on to life and spirit, although they became fused to Voldemort's. Because Harry didn't die, the two of them have since been sharing from the same reservoir of magical power – the strongest in the world today. During the first war, Voldemort was very powerful. Harry was born a powerful wizard, but with the failed killing curse, their powers are combined. I can only thwart Voldemort because his power is shared with Harry. If he had free use of all of that power, even I would fail before him. When he had no body, or just a brand new one, he was too weak to use all the power. Harry was, of course, too inexperienced and weak as a youngster to draw on that power fully, although at times of strong emotion, it would erupt uncontrolledly. Now both are stronger and the power is shared, but not separate."

"So what happens now?" asked Arthur.

"What happens now is what has been happening since - when, Harry? Since we were in Egypt?" Harry nodded. "Within their joined spirit, Harry must wrestle with Voldemort for control of that power. When he adheres to his better, more loving nature, Harry can contend with Voldemort – the love is too painful for Voldemort. But when Harry is weakened by hatred or anger, Voldemort can seize greater control, at least temporarily. In Liverpool, Harry was angered by the misuse of Miss Granger's form, and Voldemort was able to seize control and use him to eliminate a threat to his plan to take control of all of the power by killing Harry himself. But when Harry saw that Ronald was hurt, he was overwhelmed with his feelings of love for Ronald and the balance was restored. That is about right, isn't it, Harry?"

Harry breathed deeply and let it out shakily. His voice quavering, he said "Yes, Professor."

"Arthur, you thought the aurors had been fighting the main battle. That is a light summer sprinkle compared to the storm that is raging within Harry for control of that power. And to the victor belong the spoils."

"Harry?" said Arthur, looking at him for confirmation. Harry nodded and pressed his lips together.

"Why haven't you told people about this, Harry? We would have done everything we could have to have helped."

"That's just it, Arthur," said Dumbledore. "That would have been the worst thing for him. He needs friendship and camaraderie - shared burdens and purpose and cause. He needs to feel that he's a part of a team. If everyone knew, they would treat him like an invalid or some sort of volatile weapon. He needs love, not emotional isolation."

"So I'm to keep it a secret, then, Albus?"

"Yes, Arthur. Even from Molly. Particularly from Molly."

"That's a tall order. I share everything with her, and you know how she feels about Harry."

"Of course, Arthur. But imagine how she would coddle Harry if she knew. He must be in the thick of things. With people. Sharing love with them. He needs connection, not protection, and Molly would do the opposite. Just think of all the others she loves and ask yourself whether you can help her protect all of them and Harry by keeping this from her."

"Well, of course I will. But when this is all over, I want you right there when this is explained to her."

"I only hope that we have the chance."

"And Albus?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"I want you standing between Molly and me when I tell her I have lied to her."

Dumbledore smiled. "You'd expose an old man to that tigress's wrath? Don't worry, Arthur, we'll find a way to soften the message. Now, Harry, what's the plan?"

"Pardon, sir?"

"Voldemort must have a plan for getting to you, or were you going to keep it from me?"

Harry looked down. "He's trying to erode my spirit by chipping away through atrocities, like all these raids. He nearly had me when he got to Iphigenia McMillan. She seemed like an angel to me, grace personified. I was so distraught, but then I saw how Ernie and Porphyrio were hurt and I was filled with compassion that was even greater than my anger. And of course, when Hermione was kidnapped, I was weakened, but I don't think that it was to the point I would have lost control if he hadn't been so enraged that some of his followers had taken it upon themselves to try to kill me. He hasn't explained to them about his need to be the one that kills me. He is even now seething about it and seeking out all his followers to determine the ones who had a hand in this attempt on me. The ones we captured are by far the luckiest of those involved."

"I should well imagine, Harry. Now you know what you must do, don't you?"

Harry recited, "To achieve peace, practice forgiveness and goodwill."

"And how do you feel about those involved in the plot today."

Harry said sincerely, "I have forgiven them, and I feel compassion for them. They feel terribly desperate, because they cannot escape their bonds to Voldemort, and he keeps pressing them harder in his plots against me, so they looked for a way to eliminate the focus of his obsession. And I also feel pity for them if they ever have to face Voldemort. Professor, does this mean I am not guilty of the killing?"

"Perhaps not in the Ministry's reckoning. But did you know what you had to do to keep control over yourself?"

"Yes, sir, I had to truly practice agape' and in my shock at Hermione's kidnapping, I lapsed."

"It's understandable."

"But not forgivable."

"Oh, don't say that, Harry, all things are forgivable. You bear some responsibility for letting Voldemort gain control, but you can forgive yourself."

"Sometimes I wonder how – there is always so much death and destruction that swirls around me."

"Accept only that which is yours, Harry, and deal with it. Let go of the rest."

"Harry, is there anything more planned?" asked Arthur.

"If he can't wear me down through the war, he'll wait until I am no longer at Hogwarts, and then when I am no longer surrounded by all my well-trained and powerful friends, he will confront me and attempt to kill me." Harry winced. "He insists he WILL kill me. The fact is that unless I live every moment of my life hidden away amongst the best fighters I can train, I will at some point have to face him. As much as I love all those I work with, I would be miserable feeling so confined. At that point, I would only be hanging on for their sake. And when I stopped caring about life, I believe he could simply possess me and have done with me. I must keep the joy of living, or I will have no life at all. And when I am gone, he will pick off all of you, as quickly as he can."

"Well, we just won't let that happen, Harry," said Arthur. "There must be a way."

"There is one sure solution I know of," said Harry, suddenly holding his scar, which had begun to burn like it was being branded. Harry stood and began pacing at the far side of the room.

Dumbledore spoke quickly. "Harry, you needn't take that path."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and paced more frantically, like a large tiger in a small cage. He breathed heavily as he spoke. "I have to say it now, while I am strong enough. Mr. Weasley, Voldemort is sending out orders to all of his followers that I am not to be killed, that he will subject anyone who has a hand in my killing to the most terrible and exquisite torture ever devised. But he is lying. He wouldn't be able to do a thing to them. He knows if I were killed by someone other than him, all of our shared magical power would be lost, and he would be left either dead or as an old, powerless squib. He tried to tempt Professor Dumbledore to take that path a year and a half ago in the lobby, but I didn't understand it then. Now I do."

"I don't think I like what you're getting at, Harry."

"You have to keep things in perspective."

"If I understand what you're suggesting, it is too horrible to contemplate."

"But you must. You should kill me, Mr. Weasley."

"Harry, how can you say that?"

"Do you remember last year when I received Sirius's portrait, and he said that the trade-off of his life against ten enemy fighters was a good trade? I was very bitter about that. But now I understand. Without Voldemort, the other side can be defeated. That is the key to victory. We can trade one of our soldiers for their best – the only one that makes them truly formidable, rather than merely cunning and ruthless. It's an excellent trade."

Mr. Weasley stared at him aghast. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

Dumbledore spoke up. "Think, Arthur, of all the people you are responsible for, of all the people you love who are at risk. By eliminating Harry, you eliminate Voldemort and all his threat. The remaining threat would just be his followers."

"And the people I have trained are more than a match for them," added Harry.

"Albus, you sound as though you want me to do it."

"On the contrary, I can't tell you how much I wish there was another dependable way. I hadn't the nerve for it myself when it was presented to me. There may be another way, but it would be very risky. This is a certainty."

"Harry, do you want to die?" asked Arthur.

"No. But I _am_ willing to. I saw today how close I came to losing control. If that were to go on longer than it did, all might be lost. I want you and all those I love to win. It is a soldier's choice – to accept death to save his comrades. I want to save my comrades."

"It is your decision, Arthur," said Dumbledore. "You are the Minister of Magic: you act for all."

"I am only the _acting_ Minister."

"Then _act -_ now and decisively," said Harry.

"But if I understand this 'shared power' you have with him, Harry, I don't have enough power at my disposal to overpower you, even were I to make such a choice."

"I can control it right now. Just as I can hold back legilemency, I can restrain self-defense. I do not have enough strength against him to allow me to kill myself, but I can give you the opportunity. To eliminate him this way, you must act soon. I don't know how long I can hold him at bay like this. You can imagine how he is raging against it," said Harry. He took a letter-opener from Arthur's desk and pressed it into Arthur's hand.

"Here, if you can't do it with a wand, do it the muggle way. For those we both love dearly."

Then Harry closed his eyes and folded his hands behind his back, exposing both his chest and his throat, whichever Arthur might decide to pierce.

"Albus?" said Arthur weakly.

"It is your decision," said Dumbledore. "This would eliminate Voldemort right now. If not this, then you are gambling that Harry can win the war within him."

Then Harry spoke quietly. "You can call it a suicide – Professor Dumbledore will back you up - but tell everyone why I accepted death. Tell them how much I love them; how much I love you all."

Arthur looked at the letter-opener and then at Harry standing there before him, calmly, perhaps even serenely, prepared to accept his own death to eliminate the threat to all, sweat beading on his forehead from the exertion of restraining the demands of the forces within him.

The seconds ticked by.

The seconds mounted into minutes. Harry's whole body began to sweat and shake.

Then Harry screamed, "CURSE YOU, WEASLEY, YOU SPINELESS WORM, ARE YOU SO WHIPPED YOU CAN'T EVEN ACT TO WIN THE WAR? BE A MAN AND GET IT OVER WITH. HOW LONG DO YOU THINK I CAN HOLD LIKE THIS? FOR THE LOVE OF ALL WE HOLD DEAR, GET IT OVER WITH!"

Arthur raised the letter-opener.


	25. New Worries for Mrs Weasley

Chapter 25 – New Worries for Mrs. Weasley

Arthur got red in the face, squeezed his fist tightly around the handle, and threw the letter-opener against the wall. Then he clutched Harry in his arms and cried openly.

"Harry, I could never do such a thing to you. Just please do whatever it takes to win this struggle."

Harry hugged him back.

"This may be a foolish gamble, but I promise you I'll do all I can."

"I just hope that I've chosen with intelligence, not out of weakness."

Dumbledore beamed. "I think you have chosen out of love."

Arthur laughed weakly. "That is not reassuring. Some of the most foolish things I have ever done were motivated by love."

"Motivated, perhaps, but it was immaturity which made them foolish, not the love. Love gives us direction and purpose. It is the difference between mere cleverness and wisdom, and the better part of wisdom is love. I believe it was the right decision, Arthur, though certainly it cannot have been an easy one. I would not have blamed you for taking the other path. However, I believe Harry has been strengthened both by the act of love in offering himself and in receiving your love in sparing him. The Order will meet tonight at headquarters."

There was a knock at the door.

"Minister," Tonks was calling through the one-way soundproof door.

Arthur tapped his throat with his wand and said, "Intercom – hall. One minute, Tonks, we'll be right with you. Intercom off."

"Does that cover it, Albus?"

"Isn't that enough for now, Arthur? Could you bear any more?"

"I doubt it: I just want to scream - or collapse - as it is."

"A scream won't help, but as you have given him your own hug, could you give him one for me?"

"Of course," said Arthur, as Dumbledore faded away. He hugged Harry and said "Harry, I hope you know that if there is anything Molly or I can do for you, it's yours."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, just keep being the most wonderful and loving parents I have ever hoped to know. You truly inspire me. And I hope you'll forgive me for what I said a few minutes ago"

"Of course, Harry, you had to prod me to act. It must have been terrible grappling with him like that," Arthur replied.

After Harry and Arthur had composed themselves, Arthur unsealed the door and let Tonks in.

"Your coffee and tea," said Tonks, "and Minister, you wanted to see Harry's paperwork?"

"Tonks," said Arthur with a half-smile, "call me Arthur when we're not in public, you should know that. Hmm, that makes me realize that we haven't even been in the same room since I took this position. Still, I'm Arthur, right?"

She nodded and smiled. "Gotcha, Arthur."

"Oh, and there will be a meeting tonight after dinner, assuming you have seen that Harry is safely back to training camp."

"Yes, Arthur. I'll help get the word out. Erm, you look a little pale – are you alright?"

"Mmm, ah, yes, Tonks, just terribly concerned about youngsters risking death so readily."

"I guess that's the parent in you. The auror in me thinks the ones taking the risk are those picking fights with Ron and Harry."

Arthur read through the papers, asked Harry a few questions, made a few changes, and then gave them back to Tonks.

"If there's one thing I was good at in the Muggle Artifacts office, it was producing a report that was both accurate and would keep others from asking any more questions. So Harry, Molly was going to come for lunch. She had the impression that Ron was anxious to have her go and let Hermione take care of him. Would you care to join us?"

"That'd be great. I've really missed Mrs. Weasley."

"Harry, you're an adult now. You can call us Arthur and Molly."

"Hmm, 'Arthur and Molly,' let's see. No, that doesn't fit. I mean, I know those are your names, but it doesn't feel right."

"In due time, Harry, you'll be ready to call us something more familiar. Would you like to see the new statue for the lobby fountain while we wait for her?"

"Uh, sure, can Tonks come with us?"

"Of course. Tonks has been reassigned for the day from training and attack response to being your escort and bodyguard."

"Since when?" said Tonks.

"Since I said so," said Arthur with a playful grin. "Actually, I already had word from training camp for you to stick with him until he was back at camp."

"I don't know if I like having to play nursemaid to a little boy," said Tonks, with an impish grin.

"The other girls at training don't think you think of me as a little boy," said Harry.

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean? What have you heard?" asked Tonks.

"I'll tell you later," said Harry, "It's not something I would want to get back to Mrs. Weasley."

"Well, I know when I'd better let something pass. Right then, to the lobby," said Arthur. On the way, he explained that the Ministry had not gotten around to replacing the old fountain with anything. Then the new goblin members of the Wizengamot had seen the wrecked foundation of the old fountain and upon hearing the story of how it came to be destroyed, offered to create a new statue. The Wizengamot agreed, reserving approval rights on the design. The plan was to create a new Magical Brethren theme which better reflected the relationship than the old statue did. The goblins proposed a design with the magical brethren standing shoulder to shoulder – as near as possible – in a ring facing outward. The initial figures were to be a wizard, a witch, a goblin, and an elf, but the figures are charmed and animate, so that if other beings join with them, like the mermaids or the centaurs, the existing figures will admit the statuary representative of that race to join the circle. They also were made to respond to some extent to the viewers.

By the time Arthur had explained it, they had arrived and Arthur said the incantation for the three of them to enter. Harry first noticed the elf: it was Dobby. Arthur explained that the goblin sculptor couldn't bring himself to sculpt a real elf, but that since Dobby was indistinguishable by looks from an elf, and he was considered a true hero among the goblins, he was chosen as the model for that figure.

"I like that handsome fella," said Tonks, as they stepped around the statue, pointing to the figure of the wizard coming into view.

Harry looked and groaned – it was Harry himself, from toe to tousled hair, scar included.

"They are very fond of you, too," said Arthur. "We couldn't get them to budge on this, even though I told them you wouldn't be too keen about it."

"Oh, well, I guess it's not the worst that could happen."

Next was the goblin figure across from Dobby's figure, whom Harry recognized as one of the goblin tribal leaders at Hogwarts who had been killed the year before in the Battle of Gringott's.

I wonder if I'll recognize the witch."

Harry circled the statue and looked up at the witch and began shaking his head sadly. It was Marietta.

"I don't think I could bear to see this very often."

"That's what I said at first," Harry heard from a different voice behind him.

"Oh, Madame Edgecombe, I didn't know you had come into the enclosure."

"I was speaking with someone in the lobby when I saw you three head over here. Once I got free I had to come over. I'm guessing, Mr. Potter, that you and she were more fond of each other than either of you had let on to me before."

"Yes, Maam."

"The pain of losing someone you love never really goes away, but it can dull with time. Last week when it first went up, I spent several hours daily looking at the statue. It is a lovely likeness. The goblins wanted to pay honor to her since she gave her life in defending them. And it smiles at me just the way Marietta used to when we would do things together. But look at her now, the way she beams at you. There must have been some special magic that went into this statue."

"I think rather," said Harry, "that love is the most special magic of all."

"You're definitely onto something there, Potter. If we could only all remember it."

Not long after, they heard Mrs. Weasley checking in at the front desk. They shook hands and said goodbye to Madame Edgecombe and then exited the curtain to greet her.

It was a joy to Harry to see Mrs. Weasley again. She was her energetic self, but Harry could see that the worry of the war was taking its toll on her. She had dropped considerable weight. Nonetheless she had just come from seeing her youngest son recovering nicely from the wound he had received in a highly successful rescue, so despite her worry, she was in a fine mood. Harry was very glad that he did not have to tell her about the offer he had made to Mr. Weasley barely an hour earlier. He felt quite certain that Mr. Weasley would not be discussing it either.

Mrs. Weasley enveloped Harry when she saw him. It felt glorious. She made a point of asking him about any possible injuries and made him demonstrate that all his limbs were complete and functional. After she got her fill of gushing over Harry, Tonks greeted her.

"Hello, Molly, Ron and Hermione coming along, then?"

Molly's demeanor became reserved, almost cold. "Hmm, Tonks. Yes, yes, they're doing very well. Ron is able to walk already."

"Did Hermione get checked out for the stunner used on her?" Harry asked.

"She wouldn't let them at first, until I arrived to stay with Ron. Then she eased up a bit. She was doting on him quite affectionately. Is that gratitude from the rescue or have they been getting together?"

"Well, she's been more demonstrative since the rescue, but it's not just that. They've been openly a couple since we've been at the Longbottoms. Well, more or less open – Ron just used the term 'girlfriend' this morning. But it was amusing to see that after we rescued her, Hermione was gushing."

"Really? Hermione gushing?"

"Well, as much as she is capable of."

"They seemed more familiar and affectionate with each other than would be explained only by the rescue, even though they were trying to hide it. But every time I tried to ask anything Ron would change the subject to, mmm, other things."

As she said this last phrase she glanced darkly at Tonks.

"Tonks," said Arthur, "you are more than welcome to join us. I think we'll have lunch brought into my office – a perquisite of the position, allowing us to speak freely."

"I appreciate that, Minister Weasley," said Tonks, with a stiffness that showed she recognized the cold shoulder Molly had given her, "but I have to fill out several more forms before Harry and I will be free to return to training."

"Right, then," said Arthur. "Come around when you've completed that and had your own lunch and we should be ready to hand him over."

Tonks went toward the aurors' floor and Arthur, Molly and Harry headed to Arthur's office, where he placed an order for lunch.

Mrs. Weasley insisted on Harry telling all about the kidnapping and rescue. She was fascinated with his observations on how different a person appears when legilemency is used in addition to sight.

"But they looked alike and yet you were certain enough they were not that you, erm, struck back at her. Sometimes I can't even tell my own twins apart."

"Looking beneath appearances, they were as different as Mr. Weasley and Mundungus Fletcher."

"Well, I'm certainly relieved that you thought to use it. A mistake either way would have been tragic."

"I rather feel like using it now, Mrs. Weasley."

"Why is that, dear?"

"I'd like to see why you were so cold to Tonks."

Mrs. Weasley looked away. "It's just that … some people … will take advantage of … vulnerable people."

Harry jolted back. "What does that mean? Wait a second. You think Tonks has been doing something improper? To whom? With whom?"

"Harry, dear, I know this time has been stressful for you. There's a lot placed on your shoulders. I don't know of a sorcerer your age who has carried so much. It's not surprising that you would be open to certain … enticements."

Harry peered at her suspiciously, "What kind of 'enticements' are you talking about?"

"Oh, I heard what happened at training. Not that I blame you, Harry. You're a healthy young man in an unsettled circumstance. Temptations must abound. I just think more mature people should act … more maturely."

"Mrs. Weasley, you think that Tonks and I …! Well, let me assure you that no such thing happened. All I did was …wait a second – is this the story Ron used to change the subject when you were asking him about Hermione?"

"Well, he confirmed things I had heard. Harry, I just don't want you to get too entangled before you're really ready. You know we love you like a son, and just want to see you make the right choices."

"And what would be so bad about Tonks? Not domestic enough? Not brave enough? No sense of humor? Maybe it's that she's not 'pureblood'? – well, I'm not either and I couldn't care less."

"Arthur! Are you not going to say anything?"

"Hmm!" said Arthur quietly, "Oh, yes, Sorry, dear I'm afraid my mind's in two places right now. Harry, Molly and I don't think any of those things. Tonks is an admirable woman." (His tone emphasized the sense of maturity and age in the word).

"Frankly, I think any man that can capture her heart is fantastically lucky."

"I can't argue with you, Harry," said Arthur. "Perhaps it's that we both had the hope that maybe you'd become interested in … someone else."

"Do you mean Ginny? Is that who fed you this story, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry glared and she pursed her lips and looked down at the table. "She's a nice enough GIRL," Harry said, with a tone that emphasized the sense of youth in it, even childishness, "but when I try to talk to her she's practically hostile towards me!"

"But Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, "sometimes you have to give a girl time and show her that you're the right fellow for her."

"She's known me since she was 11. I've stayed in the same home many times, both at the Burrow and Grimmauld Place, and we've shared a house at school for six years. If that's not enough time for her to get to know me, I don't know as I want to piddle around waiting for her. I understand what you mean about 'entanglements,' but I also have to keep in mind that I am in constant danger. Look what happened today – do you think the kidnapping was about getting to Ron or Hermione?"

Arthur and Molly looked at each other before Molly answered.

"No, Harry, we know it wasn't."

"My time may well be short. There may not be enough of it for me to wait on Ginny to make up her mind. I have no intention of being a tomcat, but given my risks and the amount of work I do spending a little time pleasantly doesn't seem out of order."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head sadly. "Harry, it hurts me to hear you say these things, most of all because you're right. I certainly am not going to encourage you to go wild, but it would be cruel of me to try to make you wait for Ginny to get over her concerns. I just wish things were different."

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley, I can't begin to tell you how much I also wish that were so. My cousin tells me that most teens spend their days praying for something interesting to happen in their lives – I would love to have nothing much going on for awhile. But some things are out of my control, so I have to make the most out of what I can."

"Harry," said Mr. Weasley, "you're entitled to have enjoyment in life. Just be careful and don't burn any bridges you might later want to cross."

"Do I understand, Harry," asked Molly, "that you aren't in fact, um, involved with anyone?"

"I'm 'involved' with everyone, but not in the way you're concerned about. In fact it appears that because of that same rumor that seems to have gotten to you, I have an excess of opportunities to have that sort of involvement and I haven't got a clue how I would go about getting from Point A to Point B."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Good, Harry. As far as I'm concerned, you're still too young for Point B."

"Well, if you're worried about boys my age getting to Point B, you shouldn't have left Ron and Hermione together."

"Why? Just how far have things gone with those two?" asked Molly in a panic.

Harry knew he was subjecting Ron to torturous treatment from his mother, but he felt it served Ron right for using the rumors about Harry to get Mrs. Weasley to leave him alone, especially when Ron knew the rumors weren't true.

"Well, I don't think they're at Point B yet, quite certain of that actually, but I know they aren't at Point A anymore either."

"Arthur," snapped Molly, "we must have a long talk with Ronald as soon as possible."

"Hmm!"

"Arthur, where is your head today? Are you not even concerned about what's happening in these children's lives?"

"Molly, I can assure that nothing is closer to my heart right now, but often mothers and fathers worry over children in different ways."

"Of course, Arthur, but you're usually right up with every conversation. Are you sure it's not those awful sunglasses? I know I hate wearing them when I don't absolutely have to."

"No, dear. I'm not fond of them, but that's not leaving me distracted. I've just been dealing with some difficult issues that were dropped on me. As for Ron, I can't pull away from work until dinner time, and then Dumbledore has called an emergency meeting. After that we can go to St. Mungo's."

"I'm sorry, Arthur, I suppose I forget at times that this job is a bit more demanding than the Muggle Artifacts office."

"It's quite the change, Molly, be patient with me."

"Oh, you goose, of course," she said, kissing him tenderly, then lingering a few seconds with her head close to his to look fondly. "Well, I can't let the two of them idle away time together there without a chaperone."

Molly stood and came around the desk to Harry giving him a hug. "Harry, I must be off. You be careful, but Arthur and I will understand if you choose to do some dating. Just be careful – romance is very powerful emotionally, and we want to see you strong, happy, and healthy. And I need for you to keep me informed about Ron and Hermione – those two bear watching, I'm certain."

Harry grinned. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley."

He felt as mischievous as Fred and George setting Ron up. Mrs. Weasley waved and left the office. Harry and Arthur sat back down.

"That was a wicked thing to do, Harry," said Arthur with a knowing smile, "but I'm actually glad for it. She's been so worried about any of you children being killed, it will do her a world of good to fret about something relatively benign."

"Well, I'm not sure I'm the most reliable reporter on the personal events in my friends' lives," said Harry.

"Nor should you be. Those two have been raised to be responsible, and they are not children anymore," said Arthur. "Now let's send a message for Tonks. She should get here in time for dessert, and I think she would be more comfortable without Molly's stern glare."

When she arrived, Tonks looked around the room cautiously.

"Everything's fine, Tonks," reassured Arthur.

They had a lovely time over dessert, talking about nothing serious, which seemed to do all three of them a world of good.

"Well, Harry, I think you're clear to go back to training," said Arthur when they had finished. "If anyone raises any questions about what happened – can't imagine why they would, especially considering the parties involved – I'll be able to say I have covered the matter with you and put out any brushfires."

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley, and thanks for taking the time to talk so long with me. I can't tell you how much our conversation with Professor Dumbledore has served to clarify my thinking."

"You know what needs to be done? Excellent."

"Well, maybe not every detail, but I can be even more focused on my course. I have a lot of things to discuss with Rev. MacBoon tonight. That is, if he won't be in any meetings?"

"He's with us, Harry, but he has already accepted that he will not be involved in any strategizing, since your intense sessions with him may cause your control of your legilemency to fail. In fact, he has one assignment and one assignment only – to see you successfully on the path you've chosen."

"I normally feel a bit sheepish about all the attention swirling around me, but I have to say that in this case, I think it's a wise use of resources – if you're still unwilling to take my other suggestion."

"Not another word about that, Harry," said Arthur, smiling fondly. "The choice is made."

"The choice is made," affirmed Harry, with a slight smile and a nod. And with that, he and Tonks left the Minister's Office.


	26. New Directions

Chapter 26 New Directions

As Harry and Tonks walked down the corridor, she filled him in on the paperwork. "I've filed the reports already. You should keep a copy, so we'll head down to my desk first, and then we're free to return anytime."

Harry checked his watch. "Oh, good, there's still plenty of time for your lethifold test."

Tonks blanched. "You had to remember that, didja? Right then, I need the certification for my job. Besides, you'll be there. That makes me feel safer."

"Maybe I shouldn't be there then. It doesn't count if you're not afraid," said Harry.

"Too bad, but I know you – you can say you wouldn't be there, but you'd be right around, though out of sight. You wouldn't shirk off like that."

"You've got me pegged, Tonks, but maybe I'd let it get a bit of you so you'd have a proper fear."

Tonks shuddered. "That's playing dirty."

"It's playing for keeps, and after seeing what a dementor's kiss does, I know that it really is playing for keeps."

"You're a real comfort."

"I try, Tonks. Ready to go?"

"Not just yet, Potter. You hinted that the girls at the camp were suspecting something. You aren't going anywhere until I hear about it."

"Or what? Ooh, I'm afraid, Tonks is going to hex me!" teased Harry.

She leered at him. "Or I'll send out copies of those pictures of you in the hospital wing, with a full explanation of who's in them."

"You play dirty, too."

"In more ways than one. So?"

"Where can we talk privately?"

"There's an interrogation room."

"That'll do – mind if I seal it?"

"Of course not – is it that bad?"

"No, I'd just rather not have it going all around."

"Let's go."

After Harry put a Soundproofing Charm around the room, he explained the rumors to Tonks, how they got started, and that this was the reason Mrs. Weasley had been so cold.

Tonks laughed at the situation. "So a lot of the girls have been trying to find out if you're really the whiz with the ladies that my jumping you yesterday morning made them think? You should offer to do for them what you did for me and then scream at them."

"Ooh, yeah," laughed Harry. "That'll be great for my love life. Seriously, I don't want to correct the record - it's been a lot of fun getting the attention, especially since I learned what's causing it."

"Aah, even the great Harry Potter gets a bit lonesome at times?"

"Of course. I'd think most everyone does. Don't you?"

"Sure, Harry, in a lot of different ways. So you're going to let the attention go on, huh? Are you going to take any of them up on the offers?"

"No. I'm tempted of course, but even if all I wanted was physical contact, I wouldn't want it based on a lie."

"You didn't lie to them. No one lied: they just misinterpreted."

Harry shook his head. "But I'd be taking advantage of that false impression. That's just not right. I want to be with someone who can accept me for what I am – dorkiness and all."

"I would," said Tonks, looking sideways at him.

"Yeah, right," laughed Harry. "That's nice of you to say, but …"

"But what, Harry?" said Tonks, looking directly at him. "I'm serious. I've been thinking about this since yesterday morning, too. I probably would have just kept it to myself, but seeing as people think something's going on, let me tell you what I've been thinking. We're in a war, Harry, and I'm a soldier on the front line. I've been sent out over two dozen times already to face dark wizards and dementors. I can't tell you how relieved and grateful I am that I can now conjure a patronus. But I come back from responding to attacks and I'm just shaking with fear. I know I seem all funny and flippant, but that's a cover. Oh, I'm a jokester anyway, but I've been overdoing it to hide my fear."

"I didn't know. All you aurors come back acting like you're just back from a picnic or at worst a bar fight."

"Yeah, we do, don't we? Any fighter that thinks it's nothing is stupid or crazy, but we say it anyway so as not to appear weak. I really need someone I can be weak with, someone I can go to and be held and comforted by when the fear gets to me."

"Yeah, I can understand that, but you've got plenty of friends, including me, and we've been there to share support, haven't we?"

"Yes, you have, and you've all been very sweet, but it's not the same as having someone you can hold as long as you need to, someone you can kiss and stroke and … be close to until you can begin to forget the fears out there that make you want to hide. Harry, I'm not looking for commitment and I'd be a fool to look for that from someone with your life expectancy. I like you a lot and I love you as a friend, but I'm not wanting big-L dreamy love. I could just really use some support for a while, someone who at least cares enough to lose his temper when I screw up, someone who can be kind and attentive and understanding."

"Aren't you bothered by the age thing? There's a fair gap between us."

"I'm not really that much older than you, and you're very mature for 17. When you were just a first-year twerp and I was studying for NEWTS, it would have been creepy, but the gap isn't so much now."

"You were at Hogwarts my first year? I don't recall that."

"Of course not. I can't name the Gryffindor seventh years from my first year either, except the prefects that used to boss us around. I wouldn't have remembered any of your group either except you tended to make rather a splash."

Harry looked down. "I'm sorry. I hadn't really meant to."

Tonks laughed and rubbed his cheeks. "Of course you didn't. You were just being Harry Potter. You can't turn around without creating a scene. So what do you think – special friends, with benefits?"

"I'm… I'm ..." Harry had trouble finding words. "Erm, what about Remus?"

Tonks face hardened and she turned away sharply. "What about him! You know I'd have been with him if I could, but he's not even as open as he was early in the summer, and that wasn't much. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's that he lost so many people he loved in the first war that he won't get close to anyone new. Maybe the time will come when he comes around. Maybe he'll get tired of being alone, but I already am. I know you go back to school in just over two weeks and I'm not looking for anything more than that. In fact, if you wanted to be with me longer than that, I'd have to tell you 'no' – we both have commitments. A person can become either hard or tender in situations like this. I'd rather give and receive care and affection. Wouldn't you?"

Harry stared at her, lost for what to say or do. She walked over to him, put her hands on his shoulders and brought her lips to his. He returned the gentle caress of her lips.

"See Harry, you're not such a klutz. That's all it takes to get started. Doesn't it feel a lot better to be connected than to be alone? And with someone who accepts you as you are, whatever your baggage might be?"

Harry nodded. "Very nice."

Harry realized how comfortable he had become with Tonks' breezy ways. Her expressions of the fears she felt made him want to comfort her. He remembered telling Mr. and Mrs. Weasley how lucky a fellow would be to have Tonks in his life. Then he took her in his arms and held her close. She smiled radiantly as she nestled against him. He looked into her eyes for several seconds, drinking in the warmth and approval that emanated. They may only have two weeks at camp, but there was nothing dishonest about this. Tonks wasn't the only one who needed someone. He slowly brought his lips back toward hers and, closing his eyes, began to kiss her, at first tenderly and then more emphatically. She pulled herself even closer to him, and accepted and returned the kiss enthusiastically.

Harry and Tonks apparated back to Longbottom Manor and headed directly to the lethifold pit after locating Remus in Moody's class. Their new relationship was too fresh to allow demonstrativeness, and yet Remus could not help but notice the playfulness and easy rapport between Harry and Tonks. Initially, he seemed to accept it as the result of dangers faced.

Tonks had no problem conjuring her patronus even with the lethifold approaching, and even insisted on repeating it several times, letting the lethifold get closer and closer each time. When she was done, she celebrated by jumping around like an excited schoolgirl, throwing her arms around Harry's neck and kissing him hard. After that, Tonks headed down for dueling training, on the way informing the Hogwarts students who still needed work on their patronus that Harry was back and their training session before dinner would be held.

Before the students arrived, Remus arched an eyebrow and said to Harry, "I thought there wasn't anything between you two?"

"There wasn't."

"Past tense?" said Remus. "Does that mean there is now?"

"There's something. People need to feel connected. People need to feel cared for and to have someone they can go to for comfort. Remus, you know that, but Tonks is right – you're distant, like you're reliving the first war, or maybe it's fear of reliving it. I understand your loss, but it's time to move on."

"Maybe there's something to what you say. I've always found it easier to look inward than to reach out."

"I did much the same thing most of last year, Remus. What I learned is that you cheat yourself and the people who love you by not chancing the pain. You've got to risk pain to experience joy."

Remus smiled. "'You have grown in wisdom, grasshopper.' But you know, Harry, it doesn't make it any easier when someone you care about goes flitting off into obvious ambushes like you did today. You could have been killed today."

Harry grinned. "You have no idea how close I really came to death today. So how about it: can you be the open and caring man I got to know four years ago?"

"I need to do some soul-searching," said Remus. "Do you know if Cameron is booked up?"

"I've got his time after dinner, but you'll be at the meeting then anyway. I'll let him know you want to see him."

"Thanks, Harry," said Remus. By then the students had begun to assemble.

That evening at dinner, Harry was greeted as a hero by all the trainees for having participated in taking out six enemy fighters. Harry acknowledged the cheers and congratulations and then added, "Make sure you give Ron a dose of this when he gets back too. He was just as big a part of the rescue and took on the enemy as well. And let's not forget that he also took the bullet intended for me and that's the reason he's not here now."

"Oh," added Harry, gesturing to Fred and George. "Due credit to Weasley Wizard Wheezes for their Extendable Ears which gave us a heads-up when we needed it."

Fred and George stood and curtsied to all corners of the room in response to the applause.

Ernie McMillan took a seat near Harry during dinner.

"Great going, Harry," he said, then added with a steely glint in his eye, "I only wish you had killed them all."

"Ernie, I know you're still hurting over what happened to your mother. I was grief-stricken, too, and I had only been around her for that one weekend. She was remarkable. But anger will kill you from within – trust me on this."

"Listen, Harry, I know you're trying to work on being kind to all creatures, or whatever it is, but I'm not. The whole war was sort of distant for me until my home was attacked. I hear your mother was very special too, but you never really knew her. I'm sorry for that, but it's a whole different matter when you've really known and loved a person. If I get the chance, every one of them will die."

"Ernie, I'm not going to ask you to forgive just yet or even to stop being angry immediately. But will you at least talk all these feelings over with Reverend MacBoon. For me. That's why he's here, Ernie, to help us deal with the stress and pain of the war without losing what makes us the ones who should win."

"Okay, Harry, I'll talk. But don't expect miracles."

"Give it a shot, that's all I ask."

After dinner, Harry and Cameron went for a very long walk and talked about all the events of the day in detail. Cameron took him to task where he had fallen short of the goal of practicing universal love and praised him where he had done well. When he told about offering to die to eliminate Voldemort's power, Cameron got tears in his eyes and recited "Greater love hath no man than this, that he would lay down his life for his friends."

"That's beautiful, Cameron, but I've done that, and in many ways. Does that mean I'm through?"

"No, Harry, it's a lovely statement, but it was said by Jesus early in his ministry. It expresses the depth of love needed, but not the breadth. By the end of his ministry, he was telling his followers to love everyone, including enemies, as they loved themselves. And he meant it too – he accepted death, a very painful one, on behalf of not just those who loved him, but especially for those who hated him. That is the example that we are all called upon to follow. Today you were willing to lay down your life to destroy Voldemort: to master universal love, you must be willing to lay down your life to save him."

"You're not making this easy."

"Nobody said it was easy."

"Could you do that, Cameron?"

Cameron hesitated. "To be honest, I don't know. I'd like to think so, but I don't know."

"Nobody said it was easy."

At the next morning's run, Harry noticed that there were a few people missing that usually were with them. He thought for a few minutes and realized that, besides Ron and Hermione, who would be returning from St. Mungo's later in the day, members of the Order of the Phoenix were missing. He figured that the meeting from the night before had gone particularly late and they needed sleep more than they needed to run.

At breakfast, Harry found a line at the door to enter the dining room. As he waited patiently with the rest, he looked to the head of the line and saw the Longbottoms' house elf Gumbo handing everyone two pairs of glasses just like the ones Mr. Weasley had been wearing. Gumbo was even wearing a pair himself. As he handed each person their glasses, he said, "A pair and a spare, put one on, please – explanation inside."

When Harry got to the front of the line, Gumbo said, "None for you, sir; explanation inside."

Harry was very puzzled by this. Seamus and Dean gave him a ribbing about not rating getting sunglasses. He found a seat and looked around at the dozens of faces all wearing mirrored wrap-around sunglasses. It sort of reminded him of pictures he had seen of muggles attending 3-D movies. It was hard not to laugh. He wasn't the only one who found this amusing: everyone was chattering and laughing and checking themselves out in the reflections off each other's glasses. The only ones not amused by it were the girls whose hair styles didn't take to sunglasses very well.

When everyone was present, Neville's grandmother stood up. In her mirrored wrap-around sunglasses, she looked as absurd as if Hagrid had been there wearing a tutu. She quieted everyone by dinging on a goblet, since she could no longer use the imposing stare which usually served her so well.

"Everyone, please take your seats and listen. The reason for these glasses is to preserve security. Minister Weasley himself has tested these glasses and they block the efforts of legilemens. In light of recent developments which cannot be explained here, it is necessary that these glasses be worn at all times when in the presence of Mr. Potter. You are all aware, no doubt, of his connection with Lord Voldemort. Most of you are also aware that Mr. Potter is a legilemens. He does not have full control of its use, however, and may inadvertently make some readings; we do not wish any information which you have to get to Voldemort, therefore, we must block any opportunity for Mr. Potter to see your eyes.

"Anyone unwilling to stick to strict sunglasses discipline will not be allowed to continue with training. For the occasional error, there will be a means of reminding you of the importance placed on this. For you aurors and adult auxiliaries, Mr. Moody has assented to impress upon you the seriousness of the matter. As for you students, Professor Dumbledore has added failure to wear sunglasses around Mr. Potter to the list of infractions for which detention will be required. Mr. Filch has gleefully accepted the responsibility of supervising such detention.

"I ask you all to accept this new requirement graciously. We do not want to isolate Mr. Potter from our company, but one never knows what tidbit of information might endanger one of us or those we care about. And please do not think that this only applies during training sessions – our activities and our duties are never far from our minds these days, and we must be ever-watchful. I would ask in fact that you wear the glasses at all times around any other people, since we do not always know whether someone is a legilemens or not. It is better to err on the side of caution in parlous times such as these. Now I believe Mr. Moody has a couple of words he wishes to say to you."

Mrs. Longbottom sat down and Moody stood up. He pointed his wand at his throat and quietly applied the Sonorus charm. Then he looked around at the room until everyone quieted. He gave them a crafty, crinkled smile and bellowed, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Then he smiled again, sat down, and performed the Quietus charm.


	27. Wizard Air Corps

Chapter 27 – Wizard Air Corps

By the end of breakfast, Ron returned to the camp. The bullet appeared to have had no magical properties, so the healers' remedies had done their magic promptly, though he came in on crutches to keep the injured leg from flexing. He was given an enthusiastic welcome and basked in it. With the wraparound mirrored sunglasses, he had something of the look of a celebrity aviator or astronaut. He just as clearly also enjoyed the hearty breakfast, since he had made a point of getting released from St. Mungo's before he had to eat another hospital meal. Somehow even in the magical world, meals in hospitals are difficult to stomach.

At the end of breakfast, the students who had volunteered to supplement the aurors and adult volunteers went with Moody to be integrated into teams, taught procedures and tactics, and learn the laws they were required to observe. It turned out they were sorely needed and immediately. Voldemort initially redoubled his efforts to spread terror, at least partially as a means of punishing those who had played a part in the kidnapping and ambush. With the volunteers already available, the Ministry had more teams available and could more thoroughly respond to the attacks.

The student auxiliaries were remarkably effective, using dependable patronuses on the dementors and disabling the dark witches and wizards on the raids at a far higher rate than the aurors and adult auxiliaries alone had. Partly that was the result of their training. The aurors, the older volunteers and even the dark wizards had been trained by those who believed in the pureblood cultural norm of formal wizards' duels. Even though there was no waiting for the niceties of a wand salute, there was still a certain amount of ritual to their approach. On the other hand, Harry had known next to none of this and only cared to teach how to stay alive. It was akin to a medieval knight drawing his sword on a modern soldier with a high-powered rifle. By the end of the month, Voldemort was forced to reduce attacks so as to cut attrition, though there were still attacks being made in bunches at least twice a day, usually more.

Ernie had been avid to participate. On his first response team, he disarmed the dark wizard accompanying the dementor which had been sent out. Even after disabling his opponent, he hit the wizard with exceedingly painful and disfiguring curses, although he avoided killing or using Cruciatus. He had to be stopped by the auror on the response team, who modified the wizard's memory and made sure the report attributed the injuries to 'overenthusiastic apprehension.'

After they got back, Harry sought Ernie out. "So, Ernie, how was it?" asked Harry.

Ernie looked at Harry defiantly a few seconds, and then looked down, shaking his head. "I thought hurting one of them would feel better than it did."

Harry nodded. "I know. I've been there. I tried to punish Bellatrix LeStrange when she killed my godfather, and it didn't give me any satisfaction. What I wanted was my godfather back, but hurting her wouldn't do that. Causing them pain just doesn't cure the pain within."

"I feel a hole inside. Hurting them is sort of like hanging a picture over a hole in a wall. It just covers it, but the hole's still there."

"Exactly, and it's not a very pretty picture that's being hung," said Harry. "Are you ready to talk to Reverend MacBoon?"

"I reckon I'd better. I wouldn't want to become something she would be ashamed of."

"That's the idea. Dumbledore told me that the ones we love never really leave us, because they live on within us. You can't bring her back, but you can carry her on in yourself by living up to her virtues and her hopes for you. Let me introduce you to him."

Harry brought Ernie to Reverend MacBoon's desk and gave a brief explanation of the situation, leaving it to Ernie to discuss the details he wanted to. Over the remainder of the month, he noticed that Ernie had a number of long talks with Cameron, and while it was hard to tell with the sunglasses on, he thought he could often detect the telltale puffiness around the eyes of someone who was dealing with inner pain. Ernie continued to participate in the response teams and developed a reputation for being particularly daring and ruthless in trying to apprehend the enemy, but was never again said to have continued hexes after apprehension or disabling.

The remainder of the month passed quickly for Harry. The redoubled efforts at training and additional responses to attacks were part of the reason, but the biggest factor was that Harry had someone he could be open and playful with. Ron and Hermione were still his best friends, but they had been spending a lot of their free time together privately at least since Harry had arrived at training camp.

Harry and Tonks both had plenty of duties and obligations, but they seemed to find opportunities several times a day to get together. Harry was almost always there when Tonks returned from a response to a raid. The first time he was shaking worse than she was and she playfully hit him in the chest.

"You're supposed to be comforting ME, you git, not the other way around!" Then she held him close and laid her head on his chest. "But it's okay, fella – it feels good to have someone worry over me."

In training and exercises Harry and Tonks challenged each other to be stronger, faster, quicker-reflexed, smarter, more self-composed. But it was not all training and fighting: they found their times for tenderness as well. With someone special in Harry's life to care about, the horrors of the war seemed tolerable, and the days flowed easily.

Even Ginny seemed less hostile, not friendly exactly, but neutral. Perhaps Molly had reassured her that the initial stories were just rumors, or perhaps Harry's and Tonks's openness about a relationship led her to accept this as the current reality, but she was at least civil to Harry. When he needed to work directly with her – in dueling and apparation - she listened attentively and did exactly as she was instructed. Harry had the feeling she was searching his eyes as he talked to her, but he could not be certain through the sunglasses.

The sunglasses were probably the most frustrating thing to deal with: Harry wanted to look into people's faces and it just wasn't the same if you couldn't see their eyes. Harry had never fully comprehended how much eyes added to conversation, letting you know where thoughts were coming from, not just the words being said. Harry understood the need for the glasses, but it still got annoying.

Harry looked forward to the trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies, since most of the people there would not be wearing sunglasses, but then orders came down that none of them would be doing their own shopping. Each student made out a list of the things they needed for the school year. Madame Malkin came to Longbottom Manor one evening to take measurements for all the students who needed new robes, and promised that the robes would be waiting for them when they got to school. This all seemed sensible and efficient to Harry, but terribly frustrating – he had wanted to look people in the face, to see eyes looking back at him. There is a connection in eye-to-eye contact more fundamental than legilemency. He had even thought to buy new robes even though he didn't really need them, but then he saw that Madame Malkin had sunglasses on and he went and grumbled to Tonks about the situation. She found a way to soothe his frustration.

One disturbing trend Harry noticed was that there was a considerable increase in quarreling. Always there will be some disagreements when so many disparate people have to spend so long in close quarters. But in the final two weeks of training camp, the level began to rise quite dramatically. Harry would have chalked it up to the tensions from responding to the attacks, but he noticed it even among the students who were not allowed to participate because of patronuses or apparation. One morning before breakfast, he came around a corner to find Neville and Michael Corner squared off against each other with wands drawn, apparently ready to attack, but as soon as they saw Harry, they straightened up, put their wands away and greeted him as if nothing had happened. When Harry asked about it, they looked at him as if he was daft.

A couple of days before the end of August, Harry came up to the lethifold practice room in the afternoon to find Professor Snape leaving it. As always with Professor Snape, Harry's feelings were very mixed: resentment, of course, for the years of hard and unreasonable treatment, some recognition that Snape had grown up in harsh surroundings akin to that which Harry had known, knowledge that Professor Dumbledore trusted Snape completely, guilt at having looked into Snape's memories in the pensieve, and even a bit of gratitude, as in the course of examining his life and relationships had recognized the times that Snape had acted to protect Harry and his friends, although often in the most grudging manner. Harry decided to try for responding amiably.

"Good morning, Professor. What brings you here/"

"Hm, Potter. Nothing _brings_ me here – I am perfectly capable of transporting myself."

"I didn't mean that. I was just …"

"I know, Potter, being nosy as usual, thinking you had to have your finger in every pot."

Just then a noise arose outside. They both looked out the nearest window and saw Fred and George Weasley and auror Wimbush on the one hand fighting against six students on the other hand. It was immediately apparent that this was no duel but an uncontrolled, angry exchange.

"Your 'leadership' is apparent," said Snape, with a smug smirk.

"_My_ leadership? I have nothing to do with this."

"If you say so," said Snape, then sneeringly adding Harry's DA nickname, "Coach."

Harry had to grit his teeth to let that go. He glanced out the window again and saw Moody breaking up the fight.

"I must be going," said Harry curtly.

"As must I."

In the practice room, Harry asked Remus, "What was Snape doing here?"

"Ah, Harry, you'll be back in school in a few days, you had best accustom yourself to saying 'Professor.'

"Okay, Professor," said Harry with a grin. "What was Snape doing here?"

"Harry, you must observe the forms, even when you don't feel the respect the titles imply. And truly, as much as you like dear Severus, you must admit he knows Potions like few others do. And that, of course, is what brought him here – both bringing me my Wolfsbane Potion for tonight's full moon and picking up some ingredients from the greenhouses that are very hard to grow."

"Really, so Neville is growing things that others find difficult?"

"Indeed. Severus has said every time he's been here how grateful he is for the excellent quality of the plants and how impressed he's been with Neville's work."

"Has he told Neville that?"

Remus snorted. "Oh, come now, Harry. We _are _speaking of Professor Snape."

"Ah, yes. So how long has he been coming here. I hadn't seen him before."

"Oh, a couple of weeks I'd say." Then Remus arched an eyebrow at him, "I can't imagine what might have distracted you in the evenings when he's dropped in."

Harry had to suppress a grin, knowing it would be particularly inappropriate around Remus.

Remus sighed. "It's okay, Harry. I'm mature enough to recognize that certain of the disappointments in my life are of my own doing. Despite my, erm, well, I'll have to admit to some jealousy, I have been able to step back a bit and appreciate the improvement in mood for both you and Tonks. And it has forced me to look at my life and appreciate how I have been letting life pass me by."

"That's great, Remus, because I hope you know that if anything had been going on between, I mean, if there was …"

"Say no more, Harry. The needs of her life were not being met. She found someone who could be the man she needed. I bear no grudges."

Just then, instead of the last 3 Hogwarts' students who had yet to master the patronus, all the members of the DA filed into the lethiform pit.

"Coach," said Ron, with a bemused twang to his voice, "several of us have had an idea about DA, and so we got everyone to meet today to hash it out."

"Let me guess, we're going to become a Gilbert & Sullivan society instead?"

"Ooh, that'd be fun," said Hermione, "but what we have been thinking about is a reorganization."

"I thought the team structure worked well, but what have you got in mind?"

Now it was Ernie's turn, "We thought that we should develop specific skills for specific threats, as well as continuing to work on dueling skills - and the patronus, for those that still need to. We thought we'd have three divisions for training purposes: ground forces: not just training together, but learning to work in combinations; air forces: fighting from their brooms in formation; and the trainees, who will be brought up to speed on their basic skills before integrating them into teams within the air and ground divisions."

Harry looked puzzled, "Aren't wizards on brooms very vulnerable to spells from wizards on the ground? There's no cover after all."

"Harry, we don't want to say all that we are thinking on this to you, since you aren't the only one who hears it. In fact, if we could go forward with it without telling you, we would have, but you'd notice a substantial portion of us larking out every DA meeting," said Hermione. "Just accept that we have reasons to think it's a good idea."

"What do the rest of you think about this?" asked Harry to the whole group.

Dean Thomas spoke up first. "You know, it doesn't sound to me like we'd be changing all that much. We'd have intensive work with the beginners, which we did last year, but we had an awful lot more of them, so that was pretty much the whole first half of the year. This year, we shouldn't have but about 200-250 beginners, so you can train them separately while the rest of us work on advanced skills. Those working on advanced skills can work on formations and coordinated attacks and the like – some on brooms and the rest on the ground."

"Well, I still like the idea of having teams of fifteen to twenty-five, with one of you in charge of each one," said Harry, and they all agreed that this arrangement had worked well. "I assume you've given some thought to leadership."

Ron started to act sheepish, but then Hermione spoke up. "Ron and Ernie did a wonderful job organizing for both the Spring Skirmish and the Battle of Gringotts. Ron is good on a broom, so he can lead our air force and Ernie can lead the ground forces."

"Anybody feel like starting a Navy?" joked Ginny, and in response Fred and George did a hornpipe dance.

"I suppose I'll be relegated to teaching?" said Harry with a smirk.

"What's wrong with teaching?" asked Remus.

"Harry, you'll be everywhere, like you always have been," said Hermione. "Yes, your first responsibility will be to bring the beginners up to speed, but as they get competent, we can place them on teams and work on more advanced spells within the teams like we did last year."

"Harry," said Neville, "You wouldn't be shunted off to the beginners. It's just that you're amazing when you teach. Anyone who can make a fighter out of me has got it on the ball for teaching."

"Yeah, if I'm so hot, where's your patronus?"

Neville stared back defiantly (though Harry could only guess this through the sunglasses), "It'll come – I'm more mindful of how far you've brought me."

"Okay, Neville, point made."

"Harry," said Ron, "we want you involved everywhere you can be. You seem always to be able to work out a solution and get us over whatever's holding us back – you aren't on any one team because you're on all the teams."

"Remus, what do you reckon about all this?" asked Harry.

"It sounds like there's a lot of enthusiasm for it and you'd be getting the most out of your resources. Just two things I'd want to ask Ron."

"What's that, mate?"

"Are you going to keep your broom forces sharp on their dueling?"

"Absolutely. We wouldn't just be flying; we plan on being ready to fight from brooms."

"That sounds splendid, and so the other question is: can I join your group?"

Ron grinned. "That would be awesome – at least when there's no full moon."

"I'll run it by Dumbledore," said Harry, "but he let Fred and George join us, Cho's staying with us, and there have been quite a number of other ex-students contacting him to say they'd like to join, too. I guess we can't have too many willing fighters on our side. I'd like some extra help with the beginners, though: Hermione's been helping me all along, and Luna's been our scribe as well as topnotch on fundamentals. I'd like Ginny and Neville to help me as well."

"What, why me?" they both asked, as Hermione and Luna just nodded their agreement.

"Neville, you relate well to those who start at the bottom on skills and you're scary intense, and Ginny, I've seen you working with the younger students all last year and you have an excellent rapport."

"You think so? You noticed?" asked Ginny.

"I wasn't communicating much – that doesn't mean I wasn't seeing what was going on."

"Well, alright then," she said, with a blush and a smile, as Neville nodded his agreement to help.

"Okay then," said Harry, "let's put it to a vote."

The reorganization won without a negative vote.

After the rest had left and Harry and Remus had worked one last time at the Manor on patronuses with those who still needed it, Harry used the mirror to call Professor Dumbledore. He explained the proposal. Dumbledore agreed with the idea.

"I can't tell you how good it is, Professor, to be able to look at someone who isn't wearing sunglasses."

"Ah, yes, I should imagine. 'Eyes are the windows of the soul,' so they say. I trust you have accepted the need for them."

"Yes, sir."

"I do have some good news for you in that regard. You are going to have a special-project student this year who will not be wearing sunglasses."

"That's great! But why no glasses."

"Well, one reason is that we couldn't find any to fit him," Dumbledore said with a laugh. "It's Hagrid. I have spoken with Minister Weasley, who agreed that Hagrid's formal pardon was long overdue. Now he needs full training as a wizard. There is no one more capable of bringing him up to snuff in a single year than yourself. So we decided that Hagrid would just not be in on any privy information while he still needs training."

"Well, of course, I'm glad to do anything I can for Hagrid, but how will I fit that in with all the other training I do, my studies with Cameron, quidditch and preparing for my NEWTs?"

"Harry, how much study for your NEWTs do you really need?"

"Do you mean because I already have my defense NEWT?"

"No, although that is relevant. I mean that you have said yourself that you know everything Voldemort knows. Tom Riddle got outstanding on all his NEWTs and he has only added to his knowledge since then. You weren't unprepared even without his knowledge. The only topics you need to learn are the developments in the past fifty years that would not interest him, like the Wolfsbane Potion. All the teachers have been made aware of your special project, as well as the limited additional preparation you will need, and they will be adjusting your assignments accordingly. Except for Professor Snape, of course."

"Of course."

"He does have a point, though, Harry: one can know the formulas but be unable to execute them when it comes time to brew them. Practice is crucial. All the teachers agreed, so they will expect you to demonstrate the skills, but not expect homework of you so long as you can perform. That is, except Professor Snape, of course."

"Of course," said Harry, with a wry smile. "So has Hagrid gotten a new wand, or is he going to try to perform magic with the remains of his original wand."

"I don't know what you mean, Harry," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye. "It would have been illegal for Hagrid to keep his original wand. It must therefore have been disposed of."

"Oh, yes, of course, how silly of me. Hagrid would never skirt Ministry laws."

"He went to Diagon Alley for his new wand the moment he stopped crying after receiving the Ministry orders. I can assure you that you will never find a more eager student."

"I'm sure of that. Maybe I can even teach him to cook for people who don't have giant teeth."

"Harry, there's one other thing," said Dumbledore more seriously.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Now that Voldemort and the Order know the Prophecy, don't you think it's time your friends knew as well?"

"I guess they should know why I always seem to be at the center of things. Alright, I'll do it very soon."

"I think you'll find your self considerably lightened by sharing the load."

"I could do with that, I think."

The evening before the students were to return to Hogwarts, all the school supplies were delivered to each student's bedside. After dinner, the students went to their rooms to get their things packed. Many of them packed magically and went out to the summers' end quidditch game. Harry made excuses and packed his things the muggle way. Even for not using magic, he was taking a very long time packing. Soon he was the only one left in the room. After a while, he heard the door creak.

"Not like you to miss a quidditch game, Harry," said Tonks quietly, shutting the door behind her.

"Oh, well, I …" Harry trailed off.

"Didja think you were going to leave without saying good-bye?"

Harry turned to her. "I don't want there to be a good-bye at all."

"Oh?"

"It's been great being with you, Tonks. Around everyone else, I feel constrained, like I can't really be myself. Being around you gives me freedom. I love that feeling and … I love you."

"And I love you, too, Harry. There's no one else like you in the world. Being with you is like basking in the summer sun."

"Yeah. That describes how I feel, too."

"That's how love should feel."

"I'm not ready for it to end. There's no 'Finite Incantatem' that will make me suddenly stop loving you."

"There'd better not be. I don't want to stop loving you and I don't want you to stop loving me. But we have different directions we have to go."

"For all your flippancy, you're such a responsible person, right now annoyingly so."

"There aren't any airheads in the Order. Or in the auror corps."

"No," said Harry with a smile. "I knew you'd say we had to move on. That's why I didn't want to finish up. The longer I stayed here, the longer I could feel there was still an 'us'."

"And yet the clock keeps ticking, Harry. Count off enough ticks, and you'll be headed to the station and I'll be headed back to the Ministry. Mrs. Longbottom might be willing to let us stay here, but it'd be kind of odd with the training camp closed."

"I could stay in London," said Harry hopefully.

"No, Harry. There's a war on, remember? We have obligations. I have to fight. You have to train the students and Hagrid."

"I've got Hogsmeade weekends, and Christmas break and …" he stopped on seeing Tonks shaking her head.

"Harry, move on. I will be. If I get a good opening with someone nice, I'm taking it. There's nothing wrong with us having had a brief romance. It was fantastic for me, and it seems it was for you, too."

"It hurts to call things off."

"I know, sweetheart, but it's better this way than calling things off after we have come to hate each other."

"I don't think I could hate you," said Harry.

"Probably not, but we will grow apart, and then in trying to get together and recreate this special time, things wouldn't feel right. And then trying to deal with each other and break up nicely would be very hard. That's one of the things you have to accept about dating an 'older woman': I've broken up with guys enough times to have a pretty good idea when you have to just make a clean break of things. We had a summer romance: it was beautiful; I'll always love you; I hope you'll love me, too; and now it's time to part."

"Okay. I know you're right. It'll hurt a while, but we have obligations," Harry sighed, and then put his arms around her waist. "Can I have one last kiss?"

She smiled and said, "I hope you have more than just one last kiss for me."


	28. Transitions

Chapter 28 Transitions

In the morning of training camp's final day, after the morning exercise and a formal breakfast in which several short motivational speeches were given and Harry was pressed into saying a few encouraging remarks ("I live for the day when we can all meet again without war and strife clouding our lives and thank you each for the hard work and courage you have shown."), the trainees gathered their things together and went to the staging areas for their departures.

The seventh year students who could apparate such distances gathered in one of the bedrooms for an orderly apparation to King's Cross Station. They could have simply gone directly to Hogsmeade Station, but none chose to. Most had to take the train because they were prefects, Head Girl, or Head Boy. The remainder just wanted to take the train for the fun of it and because it would be their last chance to take it to Hogwarts. Harry reckoned that the parents at least would be without sunglasses and had been encouraged by Dumbledore to meet with as many people at Platform 9 ¾ to show the parents his personal interest in the DA and encourage as much participation as possible.

Neville and the other students who couldn't apparate gathered in another bedroom for an orderly use of the Floo system to get to the train station. The aurors apparating back to the Ministry of Magic were being coordinated by Moody so they wouldn't be arriving too many at a time. The adult auxiliaries apparating back to homes or jobs, such as Cho Chang and the Weasley twins, could apparate freely once they were ready.

At least this was the plan. Largely in the end it worked out that way, but there were a lot of friends made between these various groups, so there was an awful lot of running back and forth between the groups for tearful goodbyes and hugs, much like any muggle summer camp departure date. There also were a number of very prickly last-minute confrontations, and Harry felt called upon to break them up, particularly since the causes of the disputes seemed forgotten as soon as he got the participants' attentions. Harry, too, had a number of goodbyes to say and had to keep checking his watch - the best gift he had ever gotten from the Dursleys, even though it was a mail-in prize from a breakfast cereal - lest he miss his scheduled departure. With Tonks he started to give her a kiss, but she bent her head downward so that he couldn't. She did allow a hug, however, and he held that a generous time. He was heartened to see a tear run down under the edge of her sunglasses. He also said goodbye to Mrs. Longbottom, who thanked him for all he had done – both in general and for Neville specifically – and again pledged the support of the Longbottom household in whatever way he might need.

Finally it was time to depart. Hermione and Ernie had apparated first, being Head Girl and Boy, and then the prefects. Harry was to leave right after the Patils: just before they disapparated they turned to him and asked, "No longer attached, then?" with a wink and a smile from each. He gave them a couple of minutes to move their things, and hopefully to be carried away in the crowd. Then he grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage and apparated to the station.

From one cacophony to another, Harry thought, as parents and students were swirling all around him. The returning students and their parents all smiled and waved at him, and he nodded and smiled back at them, not being able to manage a wave with his hands full. As he looked around he felt rather intoxicated at seeing all the parents and students who did not have sunglasses on. This was to be remedied as soon as they got off the train, so he would have to make the most of this opportunity.

He found the compartment which Neville had claimed for them and stowed his things away, making sure that Hedwig was accommodated, and rushed out to the platform. He happily greeted anyone and everyone he saw without glasses – except Draco Malfoy and his mother – looking them all in the eye and just beaming at them as he talked about the DA and efforts to defend against the attacks. A remarkable number knew someone who had been protected – or for whom protection came too late. First years pointed shyly at him and gathered as Harry greeted every one of them he saw, as well as their parents, and encouraged them all to take part in the DA. They all indicated they had been looking forward to that as much as anything else at Hogwarts.

Finally it was time for the final boarding. Harry learned from Hermione that the sunglasses would be distributed to the prefects when they met in the prefects' coach and wearing the glasses would be required of all prefects as soon as they arrived in Hogsmeade. The other students would receive their glasses at Hogsmeade station. Sunglasses would be required for all students – but Harry - from the carriages and boats onward.

"You should have heard Malfoy whinging about the rule," said Hermione, "until he was reminded that having you look him in the eye was like having Voldemort facing him – then he shut up about it."

Harry smiled at that. He also noticed how Hermione really fit into the Head Girl role. As a prefect she had been rather on the officious, sometimes downright bossy, side; but as Head Girl she shared oversight with Ernie for the entire student body and became very pragmatic about matters, letting niggling details slide while attending to the necessities of health, safety and reasonable order. He smiled inwardly as he watched her conducting her duties, and realized that she reminded him of a much younger and less stern Professor McGonagall, but every bit as focused and determined.

Harry and Neville decided to wait for the prefects to be done with their duties before heading to the gym car. As they waited and talked, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle came to their car and eased their way through the door in turn, being a bit too wide to step through it without turning. Neville tensed up, but Harry greeted them comfortably.

"Potter," grunted Goyle. "Did you mean what you said last year, about us joining the DA also, even after all the things that have happened, you know, between us?"

"Of course," said Harry. "Whatever happened before is water under the bridge – I'm only concerned about everyone's safety. If you want to learn the skills of self-defense, that's what we're about. But will you be able to get away from Malfoy?"

"We'll get away, one way or another," said Crabbe. "This whole war thing is just too much. I mean, I was always brought up to believe that wizards should stick with wizards and muggles with muggles, and I'm still okay with that, but going around killing people like that, sorcerers and muggles alike, well, I want no part of it."

"Me neither," said Goyle, a chin wobbling as he agreed.

"Isn't this going to cause some strain at home? After all, I'm sure you know the circumstances when I first met your fathers."

"Yeah, we read your interview. Our fathers have never been awfully open about such things, but I know I wasn't all that surprised," said Crabbe, with Goyle nodding agreement. "GG and me have exchanged owls about all the killings, and we don't want to go that way. We pretty much kept quiet over the summer about what we were thinking."

"That's great, guys, and you're welcome to join us, but do you realize that everything you've said to me is known to Voldemort, who will presumably be telling your fathers?"

"Yeah, we saw all those others running around in the sunglasses, so we asked Nott about them and he explained it. He said they were cool at first, but they got really old,' said Crabbe.

"Yeah, he also said all of us students would be wearing them this year, except in our dorms and such. That's got to be a drag for you, Potter, I mean, well, both parts actually, having the Dark Lord in your head all the time and not being able to see anyone except in sunglasses," said Goyle.

"Anyway, tuition's already paid, and we reckon we'll stay at Hogwarts for breaks, unless something else turns up," replied Goyle.

"Somebody I respected a lot had to do that when he broke from his family many years ago. Well, okay, then, we'll be doing intensive sessions with new students to bring them up to speed. We'll have all the details posted. You two should be up to speed in no time, seeing as you've already got 6 years under your belts."

They looked down, then Crabbe spoke. "You'd think so, but neither of us is really very good with a wand. Truth be told, we were relieved when Longbottom here was no good, 'cause that meant there was somebody worse than us in our year. Then you started training him and everybody says he's awesome now."

Neville puffed up at this and grinned.

"Yeah," said Goyle, "being Draco's friends has never really done anything for us except give some opportunities to shove people around. Your friends have become powerful wizards. We kind of like the idea of friends who help their friends be better than they were."

Harry smiled, and glanced over at Neville. "That's the best kind, isn't it? I know I wouldn't even be alive but for the help of my friends, and they also keep pushing me to be better. You do know that we don't generally do any shoving around of people – except during training."

"Yeah," said Crabbe. "I guess we'll have to work on new career plans, then, eh?"

They all laughed.

"So, erm, Potter?" asked Goyle, "We were also wondering if you were going to do that boxing thing like last year."

"Well, I reckon we could. I'm sure Finnegan and Thomas will be ready for it, though I doubt Malfoy will want to play. But let's have some instruction first. I'm afraid we kind of took advantage of you two last year."

They smiled and Goyle said, "That's okay. You three were better at it. Getting knocked around a bit made us think – no small task, that. That's something else we didn't do a lot of around Malfoy." They waved and left, saying "See you at the gym in a bit."

Neville stared a second and then stuck his head out the window, looking up to the sky and turning his head every which way.

"Whatcha looking for, Neville?" asked Harry.

"The pigs," he replied, "because I would have sworn that nothing like that would happen til pigs fly."

"War makes everyone reexamine where they really stand."

"You reckon they're for real with that?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I decided to take the opportunity to use legilemency to scan their attitudes and they were playing it straight, no tricks. They're really scared, far more than they let on. They have a right to be. We'll have to be certain they understand that they have a place with us."

Soon afterward, the prefects were able to break from their duties. Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Ron found the car Harry and Neville were in, just as Harry was seeing if Hedwig was hungry.

"Did the snack cart come by yet?" asked Ron.

"Sorry, mate, not yet," said Harry. "How about an owl treat?"

He tossed a large pellet to Ron, who looked it over, shrugged, and tossed it into his mouth like a peanut. Hermione winced and said "Ewww" while Luna and Ginny laughed along with Harry and Neville. Then Neville and Harry told the others about Crabbe and Goyle's visit.

"So you're gonna trust them, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Well, I know their present intentions are good. They'll be among the beginners group at first anyway. Who knows what bad habits will come back to them cooped up in a dorm with Malfoy? If I come across them without their sunglasses on, I'll just make sure where their loyalties are."

The others shifted their heads around to each other when Harry said this.

"Erm, Harry?" said Hermione, "I thought you were suppressing legilemency."

"Well, sure, with friends. I'm rather glad I wasn't suppressing it a couple of weeks ago in Liverpool, or have you forgotten that?" he replied.

"No, I definitely haven't, but it's not as if you'll be storming a house full of dark wizards at Hogwarts."

"And most of the time I'll be suppressing it, but I'm not that confident about those two yet. I like giving second chances, but when you can verify, it makes sense to do so."

"But that's hardly in keeping with the idea of giving second chances. Who else do you think you're going to check up on?" she asked.

"I don't know; maybe if some more of the Slytherins who never came to DA last year show up, I'll check them out. That is, if I get the chance – everyone will have the shades by then, and I don't plan on tearing their glasses off. I try to be more subtle than that."

"No one else? You wouldn't use it if I took my glasses off?"

"You? I so miss being able to look into my friends' eyes, I'd just gaze into yours as long as you let me – no legilemency, just enjoyment."

"Would you be able to keep HIM from making you do it?"

"He and I disagree about that. If it was anything important, I wouldn't want to test it. Why are you so curious about all that?"

"Oh, well, you know, Harry, as Head Girl I have this new rule to enforce and I have to know if it's just a general precaution, like not feeding the giant squid by hand, or if it's a real, immediate danger."

"As much as I hate to say it, you'd better treat it as a real danger. Anybody who knows about how we're responding to the attacks or whatever had better keep their shades on."

Then Ginny asked, curiously, "Harry, is it really that hard going without seeing people's eyes?"

He peered penetratingly at her and spoke slowly, with such intensity that not just the car but the whole train seemed to go silent. "You just don't know until you've done it for a while. I know you and the others take them off to look at each other sometimes when it's truly safe – I've heard the talk, and Tonks confirmed it. The sunglasses are a wall between me and everyone else. I can talk around the wall, but I miss so much. It's like I'm in dungeon cell, calling out through a window to the free people on the outside. Eyes communicate in ways that words never can: the way they glisten, the way they meet your own eyes, the way they shift to scan you as you talk with someone – it's more marvelous than you can even imagine until you've done without it for a long while – and two weeks time is long enough for it to hurt. Right now, I feel like just _grabbing_ your glasses off, just to look into the deep brown of your eyes."

The force with which he said that made them all uneasy. Ginny was looking up into his face and gulped.

"Harry, I know it's just sunglasses and eyes you're talking about, but you make that sound too – passionate, predatory, something – for me to hear you talking like that about my sister," said Ron.

Ginny kept looking toward Harry. "Shut up, Ron," she said breathlessly.

"Harry?" said Hermione. "Are you going to be able to make it?"

"Yeah," said Harry, turning from Ginny to Hermione and relaxing. "I'll have some outlets: Hagrid and Reverend MacBoon are going to be kept from any secrets, so they won't have to wear glasses, and I'll be spending a lot of time with them. Professor Dumbledore is skilled enough at occlumency that he won't need to wear them. I imagine Snape is too: who knows? - after a couple of months, I might even find myself gazing into his eyes."

They all shuddered and laughed.

"Oh, and the portraits are safe, too. They have no minds to read, or whatever it is they have, there's nothing legilemency can get to – I tried at the Longbottoms just to make sure. None of them are quite as fully reproduced that it would be a substitute by itself, but it'll help. I may freak Sirius out after a while."

Luna smiled. "My mother used to tell me how when I was a baby and she would nurse me, I would look up into her eyes as I suckled, and she would look down into mine, and she would feel like everything else in the world just receded away and there was this complete spiritual link between us."

The others nodded with understanding.

"I'm sure that's more than just a poetic expression," said Hermione.

After a few seconds, Harry spoke up. "Oh, speaking of Hagrid, I'll be teaching him all the usual stuff he doesn't yet know as a wizard, so I'll need to find out what he can do. Since there are no classes until Monday, would you guys help me with that tomorrow afternoon?"

They all agreed. Then Harry continued, more somberly. "Also there's something I need to tell all of you about, and Hagrid's hut is a better place than most for it."

They all shifted their heads toward each other again.

"Okay, Harry," said Ron. "Are you sure it's not something you can tell us now?"

"I'd rather think a bit about what ought to be said, okay? Hey listen guys, it's great talking about this – I want you to understand what I'm going through, but there's a whole gym full of people who don't have shades on yet and I plan on making the most of it before the train gets to Hogsmeade."

"Right behind you, mate," said Ron with a cheery smile, as they all got out their gym bags and headed down the train.


	29. Back at Hogwarts

Chapter 29 - Back at Hogwarts

After they had worked out and were eating foods they had gotten from the snack trolley for lunch, it occurred to Harry that Hermione had never mentioned seeing the thestrals at the station, even though she had seen Marietta die at the Battle of Gringotts. He asked her if she had.

"No, Harry. I ought to have, oughtn't I? I wonder why I didn't," she replied.

"I didn't see them right after Cedric Diggory was killed either. It seems to take a while for the realization that you've seen a person die to sink in. It's kind of unreal until the knowledge of the permanence hits you. Did any of the rest of you see Marietta die?" asked Harry.

They all shook their heads no, but for seeing the thestrals it really only mattered for Ron and Ginny, as Neville and Luna had seen the thestrals ever since arriving at Hogwarts.

"I assume you'll see them when we get to the station, Hermione. You've ridden one, but even so, they are pretty freaky to see. You should be prepared."

"You're absolutely right. Well, then, what do they look like?"

Luna nodded thoughtfully. "Rather like a very thin, lanky black snorkack, oh, but without the horns, of course."

"Uh-huh, of course," said Hermione. Harry didn't have to see her eyes to know how they were rolling. "Well, that would be useful, Luna, if I had ever SEEN a snorkack. Can anyone describe it by something I might have seen?"

"They're sort of dragonish," said Neville, "but of course, they're horse-sized."

"That's not bad, Neville, but the neck and tail are so different," said Harry, "Let's see, Hermione - you know plenty of non-magical creatures as well, so think of a horse-sized monitor lizard with long bony legs and large leathery dragon wings," said Harry.

"Eww," said Hermione, "that is freaky."

"Even with that description, you aren't truly prepared for the real thing. Just remember that you've petted them and ridden one, even though you couldn't see them, so they aren't as awful as they look."

"Okay, thanks for getting me ready."

"Well, we can't have the Head Girl freaking out at the station, can we?" said Neville.

"What about Ernie?" said Ron. "He wasn't seeing them before, but how much did he see of his mother getting the dementor's kiss?"

"Would that do it?" asked Hermione, "I guess if the soul is gone, what's left really? For that matter, he may have seen Marietta die, as well. We'd better talk to him when the prefects gather to get people off the train."

When the train started slowing, Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Luna went to meet with the other prefects to prepare to organize the first years. Neville and Harry waited for much of the mad press for the doors to clear before trying to make their way through. Harry waited at the door to the compartment and greeted everyone, looking each one in the eye as he did, and savoring this last bit of eye contact.

As they made their way with their gear, they noticed a commotion up ahead: Zacharias Smith and Seamus Finnegan were squabbling.

"Watch where you're going, you Mick ape!" shouted Zacharias.

"You're the one who doesn't know how to wait turns, you fat slob."

That was a cheap shot, thought Harry: Zacharias had trimmed and firmed a lot in the past two years, though he still had a bit of pudginess to him, like Neville. Harry wished he could see their eyes so he could figure out who had done what, but both had been at Longbottom Manor and so they had their sunglasses on. Harry was surprised, though, thinking that the squabbles at training would have been left behind. Perhaps there was some carry-over. They both half-fell through the door and Zacharias cursed at Seamus for knocking over his owl cage. They went to separate areas to get into carriages.

This wasn't all of the conflict either. The Patil sisters were arguing fiercely in Hindi until they saw Harry watching them. They immediately stopped and turned to him, gave smiles as sweet as treacle tarts, and said "Hi, Harry" simultaneously and in harmony. As soon as Harry said hi and moved on, he heard them return to their argument. Up and down the platform, Harry saw people who had been at training arguing amongst each other. At least the next day would be an 'off' day for them all – a day away from war preparations could be just the tonic they needed. It seemed the only ones who had been at training who weren't arguing, or worse, besides Harry, were the Head Girl and Boy and the prefects: they were busy distributing sunglasses to everyone and directing the first years to Hagrid for loading into the boats. As Harry scanned the scene, he thought he saw Professor Snape through a cloud of steam near the locomotive, but when he looked back, there was no one there.

Harry saw Hagrid from half a platform away. It never was hard to find a ten foot tall half-giant. Harry whistled and waved. Hagrid grinned and pulled out his new wand and began enthusiastically waving it over his head. It suddenly spewed sparks all over, making the students scatter. Hagrid quickly and sheepishly tucked the wand away. Harry used his wand to write 'tomorrow afternoon' in the air over his head and Hagrid gave him a thumbs-up.

Neville and Harry claimed a carriage and held spaces for Ron and Hermione. Harry watched sadly as all the new students put their sunglasses on. It was as ominous as the thud of the door in the hearing room two summers before. Harry sat back down heavily as the last few put on their shades. Soon after, Ron and Hermione arrived.

"They are rather bizarre, aren't they?" observed Hermione.

"Hmm, yes, they seem so distant now," said Harry distractedly.

"What are you talking about, Harry? I meant the thestrals – it's good you warned me. I would have jumped at least. That wouldn't have done."

"Yeah – sorry, I thought you were talking about the students."

"No freakier than any assemblage of 1200 sorcerers anyplace would be, less than most," said Hermione.

"It's not the magic – it's the identical mirrored glasses."

"And yet it never bothered you that we all wear identical robes," laughed Hermione.

"That's different – all boarding schools have uniforms," said Harry.

"I think I'm with Harry on this one," said Ron. "Robes are different since everyone wears clothes of some sort anyway, but covering the eyes is not common except at the beach or sports matches."

"Oh, I know," said Hermione. "I just wanted him to see it differently. Don't get too upset over it, Harry."

"I'm not upset!" Harry snapped. "Okay, maybe some, more like a bit frustrated, but I understand the need."

"You know, mate," said Ron, "You're not the only one annoyed by it. It gets old wearing these things all the time. And the castle is usually a bit on the dark side – with sunglasses it's going to be right gloomy."

"You're absolutely right, Ron," said Hermione, causing everyone's jaws to drop.

"Hermione!" said Neville, "you agreed with Ron!"

"Do you think I would be seeing a fool?" she replied.

"There have been times you're treated me that way," said Ron under his breath.

"Sometimes you've acted that way. Most of the time you make sense."

"Oh, thank you," said Ron, "but you must stop being so gushy about me – you'll make me blush."

"Hmph!" said Hermione, "Anyway, I'll say something to Professor McGonagall about brightening up the place."

"I'm going to need shades to deal with the extra lighting," said Harry.

"Maybe you should wear them, Harry," said Neville. "You'd probably feel a bit more normal if you weren't the only one without them."

"You know, that would help," said Harry. "And then I would also have the feeling of sharing the same burdens with all of you."

"Yes, Harry, that's what you need – to share more burdens," said Hermione.

"Experiences, then"

"I know," Hermione responded with a grin. "I'll see if they'll let you wear the glasses, too. They may want it to be easier for people to see that you're around, so that people who have taken off their glasses can put them back on."

"I thought people were supposed to have them on all the time," said Neville.

"Well, that's the rule, but we're only going to enforce it in places Harry's likely to be – the Great Hall, the library, around classrooms he might go to, that sort of thing. Of course, in the Gryffindor common room, we'll have to have them on all the time. We girls will be able to take them off in the dorms: you boys who room with him will either have to wear them at night or use some sort of a mask."

Ron laughed. "We ought to just tie a bag over his head and be done with it."

Hermione smiled. "That wouldn't be so bad, Ron, except that if Harry is not entirely in control of his actions…"

Harry interrupted. "You mean if Voldemort takes control!"

"Yes, Harry, but I don't like to say it, - then he'd just pull off the bag or mask and the point would be lost. So we have to take responsibility for our own thoughts."

"I'm not always so good on taking responsibility for my own actions, much less my own thoughts." Then he looked Hermione up and down and added with a smirk, "I have a feeling, though, that what's-his-name's not really interested in what I'm usually thinking."

Hermione cocked her head at him and gave him a coy smile. "You know what I mean, wise guy."

Soon the carriages arrived at the castle and everyone made his or her way into the Great Hall. They all assembled at place settings for their various houses and waited for the professors to assemble before the first years would be led in.

"You know what I hadn't thought about is who will be the new Defense teacher," said Neville.

"Yeah, since Harry went and LOST us our last one!" said Ginny. "I kind of liked him, too, as I vaguely recall: it's been so long."

"Yeah, well, I reckon he's more suited to bureaucracy than a classroom anyway," returned Harry.

They watched as the teachers filtered in. All the same professors they knew came in, until they saw Hagrid duck through the door in the back, holding it open for and happily chatting with Madame Maxime.

"Could it be?" asked Hermione.

"Well, she's certainly qualified," said Ginny.

"I'll say, but why would she go from being headmistress of Beauxbatons School of Sorcery to being a professor here?" said Ron.

"Looking at the way she and Hagrid are talking, she may be trying to steal our Magical Creatures professor," said Harry.

"Well, you wouldn't stand in his way if they fell in love, would you, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"It doesn't seem like it would truly be Hogwarts without Hagrid."

"Well, it was Hogwarts before Hagrid came and it will be Hogwarts after he leaves," said Hermione.

"Yes, but Harry has something there," said Ginny. "It wouldn't be the Hogwarts we've known. But then, I'll also have to get used to a Hogwarts without you four, just as we got used to a Hogwarts without Fred and George and all the others who have left."

"It's like a forest," said Neville, "trees die, others grow in the space made available, but it all remains the same forest – recognizable, yet different."

"That's brilliant, mate," said Ron.

"I understand living things."

Professor Dumbledore then arose and everyone quieted. He made a gesture toward the large doors and Professor McGonagall led the first year students in. Then she picked up the stool and the Sorting Hat, placing the Hat upon the stool after having placed the stool on the dais. At once a tear in the brim opened into a mouth and began to sing:

"We come together in these times of woe,

To see how much you can learn,

For you must all continue to grow

Amidst peril and grave concern.

Soon I will sort you into school teams,

Places that will nurture and promote,

With those who can help you reach your dreams,

To help you be a person of note.

Into Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor,

We once said you'd be divided,

But of late these Hogwarts houses four,

Have seen the value of being united.

The path has been found, this coming together

To make it through the storm,

And though beset we are by tumultuous weather,

Keep holding on in good form.

Have faith, though the wind will blow,

Have faith, though strife you will know,

Hold fast, to that which has worth,

Hold fast, for the spirit's rebirth.

Troubles we'll see and tempers will boil,

The knight will show shades of grey,

Tempests will quicken and waters will roil,

Until light shines through in the new-found day.

Have faith, in the course you embraced,

Have faith, in the plan you have chased,

Hold fast, to what you hold true,

Hold fast, till a new light reveals a new you."

Then the hat returned to its appearance as just a tattered old hat.

"Well, there you go," said Ron. "We've been doing the right thing – all this preparation and interhouse unity."

"I'll have to admit it was encouraging," said Hermione. "wouldn't you say so, Ginny?"

"Absolutely. Mind you, there was a lot about storms and tumult, but how could there not be?

"Well, I'd rather hear what we heard than 'run for cover,' eh, Harry?" said Neville.

"Harry?" asked Ron. "Earth to Harry, come in please."

"Hmm," said Harry, shaking himself from a trancelike state. "Oh, yes, of course, it's the first time it's said we were doing something right. Only … oh, never mind."

"No, what, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I just had the impression, maybe it was the tone or something, but that it was talking particularly to me."

Everyone was silent a couple of second and glanced around at each other, then Ginny said, "Well, of course, Harry, that's how the Sorting Hat's song is. It's always like that."

"Oh, yes," said Hermione. "I've always felt it was talking just to me."

"Yeah, really," said Neville. "It's only after I talk about it with others that I see everyone feels that way."

"This seemed different, "said Harry, "or am I going crazy."

"We all are, Harry," said Ron. "Crazy with hunger – it seems the sorting gets longer and longer every year."

The others all laughed, but Harry watched the sorting ceremony without really listening. He was trying to remember all of what the Hat had sung. He cheered along with the rest every time a new Gryffindor was selected, but he knew he'd have to learn the names later, because he was not at all focused on those details.

Before long the sorting was over and Dumbledore rose again. "A new year begins, more somberly than most, as we are under the shadow of war. Some of us here have already paid a personal price in this war. To those, we offer our pledge of support, friendship and sympathy. We also can offer our commitment to be steadfast to the cause of putting an end to this war in a way that allows all beings to freely pursue their interests in ways that do not harm others. Others of us have already participated in fighting back and I am most proud of the performance of each of our comrades who have done so. Others will be invited to participate in such measures as well.

"That said, I have just a few comments before we dine. Please welcome Professor Maxime, who will be a visiting professor in defense as she takes a sabbatical from the Beauxbaton School of Sorcery, where she is Headmistress. The Forbidden Forest is forbidden, although sometimes I wonder why I say it. Mr. Filch has a long list of banned items for which detention will be imposed. And something very new this year- all students will be required to wear sunglasses at all times, except in circumstances which have been designated by your professors. We will be establishing some rooms which will not require sunglasses. Announcements will be made. The reasons have already been expressed (and at this point everyone's head turned to Harry) in the letter which was sent to each of you. Please be assured that the sunglasses rule will be enforced stringently. All the professors and staff have made long lists of their most unpleasant tasks in case detentions should be needed."

With that, Dumbledore clapped his hands and the feast appeared magically on the salvers. They all ate heartily and talked over each other. Harry found his mind wandering as he realized it was harder to follow conversations in a crowd when you couldn't see the speaker's eyes. He gazed around, seeing that the only people without sunglasses were Professors Dumbledore, Snape and Hagrid. He looked around for Cameron, but as usual, he was not there. He caught Hagrid's eyes and gave an arched eyebrow while tilting his head in Madame Maxime's direction. Hagrid gave an enormous smile that made Harry laugh.

"What's so funny?" asked Ginny.

"Hagrid's smile," said Harry.

"Oh, dear," said Hermione, "We may have already lost him."

"That's not just any happiness," said Ginny. "That's the same smile that Ron had the first time - OW – Hermione, why'd you kick me?"

"Oh, did I?" smiled Hermione. "My foot must have slipped. But I think I'd rather describe it as the look Harry had at training around Tonks these past few weeks."

"Hrmf," said Ginny.

"Was I that bad? It's hard to believe that I just said good-bye to her this morning. Somehow, maybe it's the way she made me understand, or maybe it's just being in a wholly different environment, but I don't feel all hung up over it. She was right – it was nice while it lasted but now it has to be over."

Ginny visibly perked up over that as Harry indicated Hagrid and continued. "The last time I saw him that happy was when Buckbeak, erm, escaped."

"Well, if she can hold her own in his heart with 'innerestin' creatures' then she's got it made," said Neville.

"That's the truth," said Ron, laughing with the others.


	30. Defenses

Chapter 30 – Defenses

After the Feast, the prefects were to bring the First Years to their various dorms. Professor McGonagall was going up to the Gryffindor dorm with them to make announcements and summoned all the first years and prefects around her. She led them to the stairs, with Ginny at the head of the line of students and the other prefects scattered through the line and Hermione bringing up the rear. The upper years trailed behind.

As they were partway up the stairs, Ginny stumbled on the hem of her robes and her sunglasses came tumbling off. Harry felt a strong urge to jostle around to where he could see her eyes, however briefly, but resisted it. She quickly grabbed the sunglasses back on and got to her feet. Professor McGonagall had stopped and was looking sternly down her nose at Ginny.

"Detention, Miss Weasley," she said. "Sunglasses Violation."

There was a sudden gasp through all the Gryffindors.

"But, Professor," pled Ginny. "I tripped and they were only off a moment."

"How long have you had your sunglasses, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny looked down. "Over two weeks, Professor."

"Then you should know what it takes to keep them on. No excuse will be accepted, and I expect you to enforce the rule this strictly as well," said Professor McGonagall. Then she addressed all the Gryffindors. "Let this be a lesson to all of you. You must find a way to keep the sunglasses on unless you are in a designated Potter-free zone. Although the glasses may seem troublesome at times, I am certain we are all most grateful for Mr. Potter's ability to give advanced warning of attacks: it has allowed us to save very many lives and apprehend a number of servants of Lord Voldemort – and by the way, I expect Gryffindors to have the courage to say his name. But along with that ability to see into Voldemort's mind comes the burden of Voldemort seeing into Mr. Potter's mind. If he sees you, Voldemort sees you. If he sees your eyes, he may see your mind through legilemency. If you do not understand that field of magic at present, you will soon: it is the first topic in Defense, along with the related topic of occlumency. You won't be learning to do them, but about them and how to protect yourselves. These sunglasses are an excellent defense. I realize that wearing them will grow tedious, and I myself feel ridiculous wearing them. But I accept their necessity. We all will be involved in preparations to defend ourselves, our families and Hogwarts. We must keep such information to ourselves and that means maintaining sunglasses discipline. There will be no exceptions. Miss Weasley, after the first years have been to the common room, the rest of the prefects will assist them to their dorm rooms and you will report to Professor Snape for detention."

"Tonight! First night? With Snape?"

"Miss Weasley, you will refer to teachers here by their proper titles. If you cannot do so, additional detentions can be arranged – with Professor Snape!"

"I'm sorry, Professor. It was a slip. I will be most pleased to report to Professor Snape."

Professor McGonagall tilted her head forward as she said, "You needn't be sarcastic, Miss Weasley."

Harry was very glad to get back to his dorm and especially his portrait of Sirius – but was shocked to find Sirius wearing mirrored wrap-around sunglasses.

"Alright now, Sirius, what's that all about? I happen to know legilemency doesn't work on portraits.

Sirius laughed raucously and took them off. "Dumbledore and I cooked this up as a joke for you. What better way to say you're thinking of someone than to set up a harmless prank."

Harry grinned and shook his head. He told Sirius about the events of the summer. Sirius listened carefully to it all, especially the events around Tonks' learning to do the patronus and Harry's romance with her.

"I bet that got Moony all steamed," he said.

"Well, not exactly steamed – I don't think he gets angry exactly, but he wasn't very happy."

"He's really stuck on her, but he keeps to himself so," said Sirius. "I got pretty peeved with him – here he could go out and do things and enjoy life, while I was cooped up with Kreacher, unable to do anything, and yet all he would do is go on missions."

"Well, he seemed serious about getting out of his shell. The war had him reliving old pains, but I think he's coming around now. He's joining Ron's broom squadrons, so he'll be amongst people."

"Good. And when there's a chance, send him around to see me – there's that foggy Dover landscape just off the third floor corridor. Even as a portrait I can knock some sense into dear Remus."

"I'll do that. I'm sure he would find it as bracing to see you as I do."

"It sounds like there's been a lot of action. I've been in Dumbledore's office several times when you were using the mirror to report attacks, and other times the old headmasters told me about other attacks. What I wouldn't give to have been on some of those response teams."

Harry nodded and replied sadly, "That would've been great, Sirius."

"Oh, Harry, you're not still blaming yourself for my death, are you? Don't! I had a chance to get out of the house and have some action and I took it. There's nobody I would have rather done it for. It's not your fault that you got fooled by that wily old trickster and it's no surprise you didn't get around to opening the mirror. You were brave and generous to try to rescue me."

"Also dead wrong!" replied Harry bitterly.

"People make mistakes. You'll make others. It doesn't make you a bad person to make them. Don't beat yourself up over them. You'll just hurt yourself that way."

"Okay, Sirius," said Harry, then he grabbed his scar. He wrote down the information and went for his mirror to call Remus.

"What's up, Harry?" said Remus.

"He's just approved another list of targets. Here are the addresses." Harry then read off all the information.

"We don't have a procedure for getting student auxiliaries yet, but we could sure use them now. Can you see if anyone's available while I call this in?"

"I'll go," said Harry, enthusiastically.

"No!" said Remus and Sirius in unison. "Oh, hi, Padfoot," added Remus, "I didn't know you were there. Harry, we need you right there in communication."

"But they have orders not to harm me. Voldemort would have their heads, literally."

"Forget it, Harry. Just see whom you can get and use the Floo network to send them to the Ministry lobby. Then get back to me."

Harry ran downstairs and found six seventh-years who could respond. They had their wands already so they all got to the Ministry as quickly as possible. Harry ran back up to the dorm room to call Remus back and tell him who had responded.

When he was done, he went back to Sirius' portrait.

"Is that how it's been all summer, Harry?"

"The last couple of months. The attacks vary from 2-4 times a day, rarely more, and anywhere from five to 20 targets per attack."

Sirius nodded, "That's got to stretch the aurors pretty thin. No wonder they're using adult and student auxiliaries."

"Sirius, I can see the glint in your eye. I wish you could go, too. I know that would be grand adventure."

"There's a real sense of purpose there, and a shot of adrenaline. But you should know that. I heard the reports on the rescue you and Ron went on. Good show."

"Thanks. It scares me, though, that he got hold of me enough to kill someone. I hope that only happened because it was someone who I found so offensive."

"Well, that probably tells you how important it is that you learn to deal with everything without anger. I would have been a goner in no time if I was in your situation. I was always far too volatile. But you know you've got to keep those positive emotions going, right?"

"Absolutely, but it's not always easy."

"They save the easy stuff for the other sorcerers. Challenges go to the best."

"Thanks, Sirius. Say, do you mind if I go downstairs now. The students could be returning anytime and I'm worried about them."

"Sure, Harry. It's best to concern yourself with the living. Ah, ah – don't object. I can talk with you, and if it helps you can look at my eyes all you want, but we both have to accept that I am not alive. Remember to always keep your focus on the living – the dead will sort their own matters out. Okay?"

"Okay, Sirius. Can I at least remember the living Sirius fondly?"

"You'd better, or Sir Cadogan and I will cuff you about. Now get going and see to the others. I'm going to make the rounds and see what I can find out."

Down in the common room, there was an air of anxiety among the rest of the students, knowing that their fellow house members were out responding to attacks. Harry was greeted nervously and asked if he knew anything.

"Nope, that's why I'm back down here – to see what the Floo brings in."

It was a nervous half-hour before the first return. Lavender Brown suddenly materialized and stepped out of the fireplace.

"Ah, a welcoming party, I see."

"Of course, Lavender," said Neville. "Tell us about it."

"Not much to tell, really – from the Ministry, I was teamed with an auror and 2 adult auxies, and we apparated to a street in the suburbs. We split into pairs and approached the house from opposite sides. The pair I was in found the wizard – looked to be east European – he saw us, too, and disapparated. Then the other pair rushed the house and chased the dementor out with their patronuses. Easy-peasy!"

The younger students were immensely impressed with Lavender's coolness at the situation. She was given a great round of cheers, hugs, and back-slapping. Harry noticed Neville's stress at not being able to participate since he couldn't apparate or conjure a patronus: he knew Neville enough to know that it wasn't the congratulations he craved, but the opportunity to fight the kind of people that had hurt his family so much. Harry stepped up beside him as they watched Lavender enjoying the attention.

Quietly Harry said, "Don't let it get to you, Neville. Your friends all know you'd be right in the thick of it."

"Yeah, sure, Harry, but it's not the same, is it?"

"No, I'm feeling pretty cooped up, too. Some people think I might actually like to get myself into scrapes, and I begin to think they may be right."

Neville grinned at him. "You reckon?"

"Just maybe," Harry said, smiling back at him. "But understand, you contribute an awful lot with all the things you do. We'll take these beginners and make them really formidable, right?"

"Sure, Harry, if training's all you can do, then do it as well as you can."

"That's the spirit. And don't worry, I think there's going to be action enough for all before everything is played out."

"Yeah, chances are. And in the meantime, I'll be there in Apparation class and every patronus session you want to lead."

"I know you will, Neville. Your parents'd be right proud of you."

Neville's voice broke as he said, "Thanks, Harry."

In a few minutes, Parvati Patil also returned. She walked out making no effort to hide the hole burned through the jacket she'd been wearing. When asked, she casually tossed off, "Oh, yeah, well, we got into a bit of a firefight before bringing down the Spanish witch there. Lucky I had learned those defensive moves from Harry." Then she cooed, "Hey, Harry, when are you going to teach me those _other_ moves?"

All the Gryffindors said "Ooooh!" and turned to Harry as he blushed radish-red. Neville gave him an elbow in the ribs.

"Oh, Lavender," said Parvati, suddenly noticing her there, "back already? Must not have been much action."

"Yeah!" said Lavender sharply. "At least we didn't have to get our clothes half-burnt off to protect our target!"

Parvati smiled acidly. "At least someone would look if mine truly were coming off."

Lavender started to grab Parvati by the jacket. "Why you jumped -up…" started Lavender, but she was interrupted by Dean Thomas's return.

"Don't let me interrupt," he said, with a wicked smile. "This is looking interesting. I love catfights."

Both Parvati and Lavender glared at Dean with looks that suggested they would tear him apart instead. However all the students pressed Dean for his story. He described going to an old urban London house, where he and an adult auxiliary were able to enter the house and Dean conjured his patronus to get rid of the dementor. The other pair in his team got into a short duel before the witch disapparated away.

"Parvati" he said. "Looks like you had your wand turned the wrong way."

"Oh, yeah, at least I was in a real fight, not just chasing the spooks away."

Dean sneered. "You think it's the same conjuring a patronus with one of them gawking at you as when you've got Harry waiting to save your skin if you panic?"

"Big deal," she said, "you knew you could apparate away if you had any trouble. I had to keep facing the witch I fought or my partner'd be cooked!"

"What about you, Lavender, see any action?" asked Dean.

"No, the wizard popped off when he saw us," she grumbled.

"Hah!" responded Dean.

"Dean! Lavender! Parvati!" scolded Harry and stepping up to them. "Each of you did brilliantly and you protected your targets. You all should be proud and congratulating each other, not fighting!"

They all looked down and said he was probably right, or something like that – it was very hard to hear what they mumbled.

Almost immediately, Ron came out of the fireplace and belched up two giant slugs.

"Why is it always me with the slug spell," he groaned. Some one handed him a trash can for the slugs.

After general "Ewwws" all around, everyone asked, "What happened?"

"Oh, my team was sent to Edinborough. My partner and I encountered a wizard and got into a duel. The other pair went into the house and dispatched the dementor. My partner had taken a stunner and I had to stand by him to keep anything else from hitting him. When the other pair (he belched another couple of slugs) started coming, he decided to run, but just before he disapparated, he got me with the slug spell, just for spite."

"Ron, why didn't you convert it or dodge it?" asked Natalie McDonald.

"It would have hit my partner if I had dodged or disapparated and I didn't know what the combination of spells might do to him." He belched a particularly large and colorful slug. "And we haven't learned a conversion spell for that one."

"Sorry about that, Ron," said Harry with a bemused smile, "I didn't figure anyone would use that in battle."

"Well, maybe you should. I'll (belch) guarantee that a fellow (double belch) isn't at full effectiveness (belch) like this. Och, this is revolting."

"Well, Protego ought to have worked, although without good aim on the bounceback, you might have hit the other team."

Harry thought a few seconds, then told Lavender to use the slug spell on him. When she did, Harry made an odd waggling motion with his wand and the spell turned into standard garden slugs before it got to him.

"I'll teach you that one, if you'd like," he said, adding "Finite Incantatem!" to make the slugs disappear.

"Hey, Harry, can you do that to make these slugs stop?" Ron asked, belching a couple of smaller slugs.

"Erm, yeah, but…"

"No, buts, just do it, mate. This is awful."

Harry smiled. "Well alright then - Finite Incantatem!"

Ron got a round-eyed look and then started contorting as one last belch made its way through his body. He struggled against it once, twice, thrice, four times before he belched an enormous slug as big as his entire arm.

"Harry, what was that?" he whined.

Harry grinned. "I tried to tell you – once the slug spell has hit you, Finite Incantatem ends the spell by making you bring up everything that's coming in one big belch."

Ron felt the sweat on his cheeks and forehead, "Well, I'm _glad_ that amused you. Still, at least it's over."

As he did this, first Hermione and then Seamus returned. Each had their tales to tell of facing sorcerers or dementors and had a grand audience for it all. But as each told their tale, the same sort of squabbling broke out between them and the others who had gone on the rescue. Harry got quite sick of it and finally said he would go to the kitchens for some snacks so they could have a celebration party.

"Oh, dear," said Hermione. "If we have a celebration every time we go on missions, my figure is a goner this year."

"Too late!" said Parvati, with a wicked sneer.

With that, Harry ducked out the portrait hole and left the fighting to the others. At the kitchen, the elves were only too happy to provide all sorts of tasty treats and placed them on charmed salvers that would follow Harry until he directed them where to place themselves. He asked about Dobby and was told that he and Melony had gotten married over the summer ("in a goblins-only ceremony! Fine by us! Good riddance to that freak of an elf!" they snorted) and had been hard at work setting up a home in the southeast tower with several rooms including a goblin healing center. It was right next to the classroom for the new elf and goblin program.

On the way back to the Gryffindor dorm, Harry ran into Ginny, who was totally filthy and none too happy.

"Hi, Ginny, need a treat? I'm taking these up to the dorm to celebrate the defending heroes returning from a mission."

She took a large frosted ladyfinger cake, delicately and deliberately licked a bit of the frosting off the end, savored it, and said, "Thanks, Harry, I needed something."

Harry smiled. "What did he have you doing?"

"Cleaning the classroom – WITHOUT MAGIC!" she groaned.

"That's awful. That explains why you're so filthy, though – especially your knees."

"Yeah, I had to scrub the whole floor with a brush and a bucket of suds. It would be cleaner done with magic, but NO - 'this is detention, Miss Weasley, the lesson is reinforced by doing it the HARD way'," she imitated Snape's oily inflection.

Harry laughed at her impression. "I'm so sorry, Ginny," he said, "I can't help but feel like this is my fault. I mean, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be trying to keep those awful glasses on."

"And if it wasn't for you and your connection," she said, "we wouldn't be celebrating the saving of those lives. So what's better: saving lives or being able to go without sunglasses?"

"I guess you're right," Harry replied.

"Don't you worry about the rest of us wearing glasses," she said. "The price is well worth it." Then she tweaked him in the side and said, "And don't you be going off by yourself, either. This year you're keeping with your friends."

"You sure you want me around?" Harry said with a weak smile.

She turned to him and said in a low voice, "I'm sure - no excuses."


	31. Sharing the Prophecy

Chapter 31 Sharing the Prophecy

The next day after lunch, Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna went to Hagrid's hut. Unusually, Fang the boarhound did not bark when they knocked on the door. When Hagrid let them in they found out why: Fang had his head laid in Madame Maxime's lap and was luxuriating in a thorough petting and scratching she was giving him. He cocked his sad eyes, but he wasn't about to move away.

"It's good to see you lot," said Hagrid. "I think you all have met Madame Maxime."

She smiled and nodded at them, but kept petting Fang. "Or Professair, eef you prefair, cheeldren."

They all greeted her, then Hagrid made introductions. "Let's see, Olympe, Hermione Granger here's our Head Girl this year."

"Yas, I remembair her from ze Yule Ball and ze second Triwizaird task. I have also haird many good zings about you from ze headmastair, my dear."

"Very pleased to meet you, Professor," replied Hermione, beaming.

"And you know Harry, of course," continued Hagrid.

"Yes, he is quite unforgettable. Mr. Potter, you have grown quite a bit these past two and a half years."

"And these two are Ron and Ginny Weasley, and this is Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom."

"Pleased to meet you all. I believe I know someone from all of your families. I take eet you Weasleys are cheeldren – or grandcheeldren? – of the new Minister?"

"His youngest children," replied Ginny. "He has no grandchildren yet."

"So far as we know," added Ron with a devilish smirk.

Hermione hit him in the arm. "Ron – what a thing to say."

"Oh, it's just a joke," he said, laughing.

"Meess Lovegood, I know your fazzer and knew your muzzer. She and I had some interests in common in magical resairch. And Mr. Longbottom, I know your grandmuzzer and her brothair. I regret I nevair met your parents, although I am aware of their story. Any improvement?"

"Not that I've even seen, Professor."

"It's a shame, sairtainly."

"Madame Maxime," said Harry. "I've just been wondering Professor Dumbledore said he couldn't get sunglasses to fit Hagrid, but yours must be just about large enough for him."

Madame Maxime smiled. "I think he was, how you say, having you on? Well, of course, if he had needed them, he could have conjured zem, as he did for me. It ees not so hard to make vairy large glasses – for a half-giant."

Harry smiled broadly. "Oh, you are? – we never would have guessed."

Maxime laughed. "You might have been too polite to say so, but ze only one not saying it was me. But zose who know Hagreed know a half-giant can be kind and gentle. Zose who cannot recognize zat weell just have to deal wiss eet."

"Well, it certainly will be easier to not have to talk around it," said Hermione. "Have you had a chance to meet Hagrid's brother since you've come to Hogwarts."

"Yass, two days ago and zis morning. He iss part of my work here – studying giants and zair ways, and looking for ways to bring zem away from Voldemort."

"She's right good with 'im," said Hagrid. "He straightens up nice with female companionship."

"Is he becoming more cooperative, Hagrid?" asked Harry.

"Not too bad at all. I spent a bunch of nights this summer camping out with 'im at his cave. He's even gotten on speaking terms of a sort with the centaurs. That's more'n I can say. They're more forgivin' of differences they've had with full-blood giants, 'cause the giants are so much less humanlike. They're talkin' with Olympe, too, so maybe there's hope that way. They're contrary, but I liked 'em in their own way regardless."

Madame Maxime stood up, to Fang's visible disappointment. "Well, cheeldren, I know you have work to do wiss Hagreed, so I will take my leave. I hope you will enjoy Defense zis yair."

"I think we're all looking forward to it," said Hermione, and the others agreed. "I know we'll be learning about legilemency and occlumency. What else will we be covering?"

"Well, it seems zat you more senior students have covered ze more direct attacks, poisons and other dangers from ze Dark Arts. We will be studying ploys, gambits, and other strategies zat ze Dark wizairds have used and might use."

"That's for me," said Ron brightly. "I'll be there early every class."

"I value such ensusiasm. Good day all."

And with that, Madame Maxime left.

"Well now," said Hagrid. "Before turning to other business, let me put on a kettle and get some tea going."

Ginny looked up at him and grinned. "Besides, we want to find out first exactly what's up with you and Madame."

"Hmm," said Hagrid, splashing some of the water onto the fire. "I don't know what you mean. We were just discussing Grawp."

"Hagrid!" said Hermione. "Just don't you try to fool us. We see your dreamy expression with her, the way you look at her."

Hagrid grinned. "I'm not very good at hiding stuff, am I? Alright, then, things have been quite nice between us since she got here. It's good to have someone around who's like me in many ways – and unlike me in the ways that are innerestin' as well."

"Well, you're both lovely people," said Hermione, "and we hope things just go swimmingly between you."

"Yes, except we don't want to lose our Magical Creatures teacher to Beauxbatons," said Ron.

"Well, you never know what could happen. But nothing would happen this year anyway, so only Luna and Ginny'd be facing any changes. Besides, you lot know that Professor Grubbly-Plank knows creatures as well as I do."

Neville shook his head. "She knows about them, but you know creatures like they're old friends. Besides, it's not about the teaching. It's about having a dependable friend around."

Hagrid smiled. "I 'preciate that, Neville. Thanks. Hogwarts will always be a big part of me. We'll cross the bridges that may come when they do. So, Harry, Dumbledore's said you're to train me up in the things I don't know to be a wizard."

"Right, Hagrid! It's about time you became fully qualified. I brought everyone to help me see what you can do already and where you need help. I was afraid I'd forget some important topic."

"Well, we can get a start on it then."

They spent the next several hours trying Hagrid out on all the different skills they could think of. They left out Divination, since none of them thought much of that anyway, and more esoteric skills like Arithmancy and Runes. They found Hagrid was already more adept than his training would have led one to expect at Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions, but would still need some work on those, along with more extensive work on Defense, Herbology, astronomy, and History of Magic. Neville offered to lend a hand with Herbology, Hermione with Potions, Luna with History, Ginny with Astronomy, and Ron with Defense. But mostly Harry was to see to the lessons, and let the others know when help was needed.

"This is really wunnerful of all of yez, to help an old groundskeeper like me get his full magical training," said Hagrid.

"It is truly our pleasure, Hagrid," said Harry. "I know there's nobody I would rather help. Just forgive me if I get a little freaky about looking into your eyes – these sunglasses are getting to me."

"Harry,…" started Hermione.

"It's okay, Hermione, I only mean it's annoying. I'm not about to lose control."

Just then Harry's scar began hurting again and he had to call Remus. Remus said he would call it in to the aurors and then use the Floo network to check the other common rooms for student auxiliaries who could help. Harry asked Remus to call when he got all the results, and Remus agreed, then as he was disappearing from the mirror he called a greeting to all the rest there.

"I suppose it's time now," said Harry, "for me to fill all of you in on some things. I wanted you five to hear it because you stood with me going to the Department of Mysteries and part of what you're about to hear is the reason I was lured there. I want Hagrid to hear it because, well, he's been there for me from the day my parents were killed."

Suddenly Harry disapparated from the hut. Fifteen seconds later, he was back.

"Sorry. I had to check all around the hut to be sure we aren't being spied on. I'm a little jumpy about this because I've carried it secretly for well over a year. Now that Voldemort knows it, you should too, but I don't know about everyone else knowing it."

The others all looked around. They could see Harry shaking as he talked himself toward being able to say what needed to be said.

Harry continued, speaking slowly. "You know that Voldemort lured me to the Department of Mysteries because he wanted to know the contents of a prophecy. The prophecy was made over 17 years ago at the height of the first war. Professor Trelawney was interviewing with Dumbledore for the Divination job when she went into a trance and made the prophecy. I've seen her make another such prophecy in a trance. There's no mistaking such a trance, and the one I saw came true. As she was reciting the prophecy, one of Voldemort's spies was recognized in the bar and removed, but he had heard the beginning. From that time on, Voldemort had wanted to hear the rest of it, and particularly so once he had conjured a new body and was unable to kill me."

Harry then stopped, obviously lost in the memories of the horrors of that night. No one spoke for over a minute, until Hermione touched his arm gently. "Harry? Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Yes. I was just …" He trailed off.

"We understand, mate," said Ron. "Are you sure you're up to telling us?"

"I have to. It's time you understood why so many things have happened around me – and will yet."

"But, Harry, that Prophecy's gone," said Neville. "I dropped it, remember?"

"Yeah, Neville, but there are other ways to learn of some things. Okay, then, here is what the prophecy said: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...' "

There was a hush around the room as everyone thought about what they had heard.

"Harry, does that mean if you don't kill him, nobody can?" croaked Ron, gulping.

"I've been over this with Dumbledore. The word used is 'vanquished,' but I haven't a clue what that might mean other than to kill him. But it does seem it's got to be me."

"Harry," said Neville, shakily. "If that was made somewhat before you were born, then it could have applied to me – my parents fought him, too, and I was born at the end of July."

Harry nodded. "He intended to kill both of us, just to be sure. But when he tried to kill me and failed, he was unable to go for you. Whether I was always the one intended or if his getting to me first made me the one, I don't know. His followers knew that he planned on going for both of us, so when he disappeared and my parents were dead, they figured your parents had something to do with why and where he had gone – that's why they were tortured."

Neville put his quivering hand over his mouth.

Then Hermione asked, "So do you have any idea what the 'power the Dark Lord knows not' is?"

"Not really. Dumbledore thinks it has to do with the message in the Egyptian shrine we found. You know, 'To achieve peace, practice forgiveness and goodwill.' That's why I've spent so much time with Reverend MacBoon and dredged up old wrongs to apologize for."

"And I must say I've liked the change that's brought in you. So has it helped you find the power?" asked Hermione.

"No, not power. But at least when I keep on an even and positive emotional keel, I can maintain myself against Voldemort. When I get angry, like when I saw that witch posing as you, he was able to seize enough control to make me kill her. I don't think I totally lost control, though – I think he just nudged my decision of which spell to use, since I had to hit her with something. But my concern for you and Ron kept me essentially in control."

"Harry," said Ginny softly. "Is learning about this the reason you started to get those death visions last year?"

Harry nodded. "Knowing that I had to remain the target as long as he and I are both alive, I knew there would be death and destruction around me. I've been so worried about the people around me – about all of you. That's why I ran away from you, and pulled way from all of you. Luckily, so far only one of those visions has come true. I don't think I'm a seer, and that's a comfort."

"Maybe Firenze can help you understand those visions," said Hagrid. "Them centaurs're bull-headed, but they know omens."

"That's a good thought," said Harry. "I may try him, Hagrid, although I have to say I'm not sure I want to know the answer."

"Do you still have those visions?" asked Hagrid.

"A bit less often, but yeah. Usually just very brief, I get those every few minutes. Erm … I get stronger visions less often."

"Harry, don't hold back now. Yeh sounded like yeh were goin' to say sumpthin' more."

Harry sighed. "I can never deny you, Hagrid. When you let Madame Maxime out this afternoon, I had a very strong vision of you sitting in a forest cradling two lifeless bodies - hers and mine."

"Harry, no!"

"Understand, these are visions, not prophecies."

"But Harry, you said one of them did come true," said Ginny. "I'm going to guess that was Marietta?"

Harry nodded and lowered his head.

"How do you know which will come true and which not?" she continued.

Harry shrugged. "I don't."

"One part of the prophecy makes no sense at all to me," said Luna. "That's where it said 'either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.' But Harry, you're alive and Voldemort's alive, so what does that part mean."

"I only figured that out this summer. It became clear with the constant communication between his mind and mine. When he tried to kill me, making this scar, our beings became fused. We are linked, inescapably by any known method. If someone else were to kill either of us, the other's powers would be lost and he would almost certainly die. But if one of us kills the other, then he will retain all the power that both of us now share. I think of the way our lives are now like this: when I was growing up I knew a horrid boy who more than once used a piece of rope to tie two tomcats' tails together, and then he would sling them over a bar so they were hanging by their tails facing each other. They would fight viciously until one of them died. More often than not, they both did."

They all gasped in revulsion at this image.

"That's my life: I'm tied to Voldemort, the other tomcat."

They all looked away or into their mugs of tea. Ron and Neville each put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulders, and each of the girls gave him warm hugs in turn. Ginny was last. She pulled away and with her hands on his upper arms she looked up at him with moisture appearing beneath the glasses.

"Is there no escape?"

"I'll listen to any ideas you have. Dumbledore could offer me no solutions, though he hopes that learning to love unconditionally will give me the power needed to win. I just don't know how I could learn to love like that, and then go out to kill someone. And I have trouble with the idea of making myself love Voldemort."

"Love Voldemort?" said Ron. "Even HIM, with all that he's done. And even though he's still trying to kill you?"

"Dumbledore assures me that I must be filled with love for ALL beings."

"'At's askin' an awful lot o' yeh, isn't it, Harry?" asked Hagrid.

Hermione answered for him. "They save the hard stuff for the best. He's amazed us before and he'll pull through again."

"Thanks, Hermione," said Harry quietly, "But do you really think so?"

"You know I've always seen the deep strength in you. I wish I could show you my eyes, so you could read how much I believe in you, Harry."

He hugged her again as the others all agreed.

"But Harry, if your death would destroy Voldemort, why did his people set that trap for you?" asked Neville.

"He hadn't explained it to them. For one thing he doesn't trust his people not to try to usurp his place as the biggest Dark Wizard around. Since then he's told them not to even take a chance around me, and made horrible threats on them if they should violate that. It was his anger about that attempt that filled in the picture for me about the connection between us. You may as well know this as well: I offered to allow myself to be … destroyed so as to destroy his power."

"Harry, no!" shouted Hermione. "How could you think such a thing?"

"Because I want you all to be safe, and that was a sure thing. You can handle the rest of them."

Then Ron said, "I'll bet Dumbledore rejected that in an instant."

Harry looked Ron in the eye – or rather where he would look to do so but for the glasses.

"I wasn't with Dumbledore the day of the rescue. It wasn't he who decided."

"Then who …? Dad! You asked Dad to kill you?"

"He's the Minister of Magic. He's got to make the tough decisions. He could have sealed the victory."

"I would never have forgiven him," said Ron, and the others nodded.

"You can say that, but I still think it would have been the wisest course."

"You sound disappointed to be alive, Harry," said Luna.

"Sometimes hard decisions have to be made, Luna. Maybe I just understand Voldemort's power more directly. I have only to search through his memories to see all the horrific things he's done – amazing magic, but repulsive beyond anything you can imagine. Knowing what I do, I think Mr. Weasley chose poorly."

"Well, not me!" said Ginny angrily. "I can't think of it as a victory if it comes at the price of slaughtering someone like you like a sacrificial lamb on an altar."

"The day may come when you regret that it wasn't done," insisted Harry.

"Never," they all said as one.

Harry smiled. "It's good to have friends like you. I really don't deserve you all."

"That's where yer wrong, Harry," said Hagrid. "You most certainly do deserve the best of friends."

Harry gathered himself, and then changed the subject.

"I just remembered our pet project, Hagrid. How's the hatching coming along?"

"Well, I'm trying, Harry. Like most large continuous laying birds, even the rooster will occasionally lay an egg, but it's pretty rare. And then to make a basilisk, I've got to recognize it when it's happened, and get it quickly enough under a toad. I must say, Neville, that's one cooperative toad you've got there: you'd never be able to lose a smart hopper like that. But even when you think you've got the right egg, and you get the toad on it, most of them would never hatch. But I'll keep trying. With Hermione's nesting box, we're in good shape. And I've got your pet carrier right up there on the shelf, next to the depetrification potion, ready for when one of 'em hatches. I've already tried four of 'em, but no hatches yet."

"Great, Hagrid, we knew we could count on you to help us with an interesting creature."

"Y'know, we may as well make this a special project for the NEWT-level class. You four are the only seventh-years taking it anyway."

"Fine, Hagrid, then we've already got a head start on the school year."

"Well, you four already know most of the stuff 'at's gonna be on the test anyway, but we'll learn the rest of it, and spend the rest of the year with the most interestin' creatures I can get hold of."

Luna and Ginny giggled as the rest looked around at each other and reluctantly agreed what a great school year that would be.


	32. Off Limits

Chapter 32 Off Limits

On the morning of the first day of classes, Harry and Neville were almost done with breakfast when Hermione and the prefects came from the prefects' bathrooms after their post-run showers. Ron didn't bother to even sit before he was piling handfuls of sausages and toast and scoopfuls of scrambled eggs on his plate.

"Have some breakfast, Ron," said Harry, smiling.

"Thanks, I will. Got to hurry to get a good breakfast before defense," said Ron, as he began shoveling food into his mouth. "We ha' a mee'i' in f'on' of 'e baff'oo'."

Harry could barely understand Ron, so he tilted his head toward Hermione, giving her a quizzical look. Hermione took it upon herself to explain.

"He said 'we had a meeting in front of the bathrooms.'"

""at ut I 'aid," grunted Ron.

"Oh, just let me explain, Ron. We are to spread the word about safe areas. Ron and I were delegated to explain them to you. Several rooms have been designated off-limits to you, so that people can have their glasses off for a while," she said, taking a bite from a point of toast with marmalade.

"Oh, well, that's fine. I don't mind avoiding a few areas. Where are they?"

"Let's see, there's Trelawney's tower …"

"Okay, I'm not in Divination and it's not like anyone'd accidentally end up there."

"… the girls' bathrooms…"

"Yeah, I haven't spent much time in those in years."

Neville cocked his head and raised his eyebrows at Harry over that, and Harry just grinned back at him. Then he turned back to Hermione, "You will send Myrtle an explanation, won't you?"

She grinned. "Of course. Then we have the other houses' dorms and common rooms and the Gryffindor girls' dorm …"

"That makes sense."

"…classes you're not in will be conducted with locked doors …"

"Naturally."

"… the prefects' bathroom …"

"Right."

"… and the spare classroom near the library will be made a study room for students using the library books – it will be off-limits to you."

"Well, I'll just stay to the regular library areas if I'm going to use library books. Is that all?"

"For now. We're going to try that much and see if it gives people enough time without the shades."

"They're annoying, are they?"

"You get used to the feeling, but everything is so dark. It leaves you walking around in a bit of a fog. Oh, there's one other thing. The student auxiliaries on call will stay in the Ravenclaw common room so they can use the Floo network on a moment's notice."

"Blast!" said Harry, with a smirk.

"Why, what's wrong with that?" asked Neville.

"We won't see Hermione for the rest of the year. Have you ever seen the Ravenclaw common room?"

"Can't say as I have. I thought they would all be like ours."

"It's a big, cozy, comfy library, 3 stories high and lined with books – Hermione won't be content until she's read every book on their shelves. That's it – she's gone!"

Ron mumbled something through a mouthful of eggs and toast and Hermione threw a napkin over his head.

"You're being silly, Harry."

"Maybe a little, but when I saw it last year, I thought of you immediately."

"That's sweet, but we'll see each other plenty, Harry. We share most classes and meals, I'm still the Gryffindor quidditch trainer, and I have my Head Girl duties. And it's not as if I can live there." Then she got a dreamy tone in her voice, "Or could I? All those books."

"See!" said Harry, "We've lost you already."

She shook her head. "Oh nonsense, Harry. Haven't I always made time for my friends?"

Harry grinned. "I reckon. Well, we'd better get to class."

That evening Harry was sitting with Ron going over the first lesson in legilemency in preparation for the first essay assignment. Ginny came storming through the portraithole and slammed her bookbag down on the table.

"I do not need this!"

"Erm, how else will you carry your books?" asked Ron.

"What? Oh, not that, you git. A week of detention!"

"How'd that happen, Ginny?" asked Harry.

"Oh, I was in Potions and Snape asked a question about truth serums. Well, of course, it's the first day of classes – does he think I've already read the book?"

"Of course, in your spare time during training camp," answered Ron.

"Yeah, exactly! I answered it as well as I could, but he said the ingredient I suggested would turn it into a poison. I said 'well, at least your victim wouldn't be telling any more lies.' Did you know that man has no sense of humor AT ALL?"

"You're just now figuring that out?" asked Harry. "So what happened?"

"He started to take twenty points from Gryffindor and I protested. He said that since it was not all of Gryffindor that had been 'cheeky' there was no need to punish all of Gryffindor and offered me the choice of detention for a week. I started to object that it was too much, but Andrew and Jack were glaring at me so hard I decided to just take the detentions."

"Wow, a week's detentions to save the house twenty points. That's rough."

Just then Andrew Kirke came through the portraithole. "Way to go, Weasley. Save those points! I'm keen on the house cup this year."

"Well, why don't you take those detentions for me then, if you're so keen!"

"Hey, don't blame me, Weasley. You're the one who's 'cheeky'! So how's about showing us those 'cheekies,'" he said, peering around toward her backside.

Suddenly Ron jumped up and charged Andrew. "You won't be talking about my sister that way, Kirke!"

They rolled on the floor wrestling a few seconds. Harry pointed his wand at them and said "Aguamenti," spraying them with ice water. It literally took their breath away for several seconds.

"Oi! Wh-wh-what d-d-did you d-d-do th-th-that for?" said Ron.

"To stop two fools from fighting. Ron, what's got into you? He was a little suggestive, so it'd make sense to tell him off, but it's not as if he grabbed her or anything," scolded Harry.

"I guess you're right, Harry. I've been kind of on-edge for a while now. Maybe quidditch practice Wednesday evening will help."

"Ohh! Quidditch practice," said Ginny thumping her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Detention's going to make me miss it. Blast!"

"Ginny, you can't go getting detentions that interfere with quidditch!" said Ron, "We need to pick a new Chaser."

She screamed back at him, "Don't you think I know that, CAPTAIN!"

Ginny grabbed her bookbag and stormed up the stairs.

"Wow," said Harry. "Is everybody short-fused like that?"

"I hadn't thought about it before, but now that you mention it, I guess there's been a good bit of it. Everybody's getting peevish. The slightest things are setting them off."

"That's a good bit more than peevish, Ron. Reckon it's the glasses?" asked Harry.

"I don't think so, Harry," said Andrew. "People were snapping at each other even without the glasses in the study room and classes today. But somehow, as I think on it, it doesn't seem like such a big deal."

"Well, it is a big deal. We've got to figure it out and do something about it. We can't prepare to defend ourselves if we can't get along."

"Right, mate," said Ron. "We'll all keep our eyes open for what it might be."

"Yeah, let's do that," said Harry.

"If it's anything," added Ron with a shrug.

"Oh, there's something going on. Nobody's been edgy – even belligerent – like this since we've been at Hogwarts til now."

"Hm," grunted Andrew. "I barely noticed, but if you say so."

Tuesday evening brought the first DA meeting of the year. The Room of Requirement was slightly smaller than it had been the year before, which puzzled Harry at first, until Ron reminded him that with a substantial number of the returning students practicing flight-formations on broomsticks, those students would be reassembling outside for practice where they could fly unimpeded by walls.

Harry asked Ron about his plans for the squadrons, as Ron insisted on calling them, and Ron told him not to ask and not to look. Harry understood. If nothing else, the squadrons had gotten special permission to fly without their sunglasses while Harry was in the Room of Requirement. Late summer flying in the evening with sunglasses would be one thing: they would have daylight for most of their sessions outdoors and might even choose to wear the shades regardless of Harry's possible presence. However, the sun was setting earlier every evening and soon they would be practicing in the dark. Sunglasses would make flight nearly impossible.

There were substantially more people at the DA even than the previous year, when the end of the year tally was over 900. War was a major motivator. The school population had grown, as it had every year since Harry's second year (reflecting that people had held off having children until Voldemort's fall). In addition, there were very few hold-outs even from Slytherin. Crabbe and Goyle were there, as well as Pansy Parkinson, and apparently all of the students from fifth-year down. Harry reckoned there couldn't be but about twenty students not participating. Besides the large class of first years and the new students from the other classes, there were perhaps a hundred ex-students returning: Cho Chang, Fred, George, Charlie and Bill Weasley, Oliver Wood, Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnett, Katie Bell, plus many others, including, of course, Remus Lupin. Harry was pleased to see Tonks there, although she would only be able to attend when auror duties allowed. Harry was even happier to see that she and Remus were behaving much less antagonistically with each other than they had at the end of camp. Hagrid as well was there, keen to learn everything he could.

After opening remarks about the on-going war, the bravery of the many team leaders who had served as student auxiliaries, as well as the adult auxiliaries and aurors who were participating, and the new organization they would be trying, Harry divided everyone into first-night teams for the purpose of evaluating where everyone's skill levels were. This went surprisingly well, and with a little coaching of a few people whose spellwork was rusty from last year, they were able to divide the group into those who were ready to practice in platoons and squadrons, and 400 trainees. The trainees consisted of first and second years, new students from upper classes, and alumni who needed dueling and spell practice to be effective.

280 people wanted to be in the squadrons and Ron led them outdoors to evaluate their broom skills. There were several professional quidditch players and others who flew for their work, and all of those were more accomplished fliers than Ron, but not one of them grumbled about his qualifications to assess their skills. Katie Bell volunteered to be trainer for the squadrons, seeing to unhexing and other healing which might be needed. She enlisted Oliver Wood to be deputy squadron leader to take over while she was busy with unhexing.

The remaining 500-odd students were in Ernie McMillan's platoons. He took one end of the Room of Requirement - an area substantially larger than a quidditch pitch, and Harry took the other with his trainees. As soon as Harry realized that he ought not be able to watch Ernie's platoons at work, a screen descended from the ceiling to separate the two groups.

They immediately set to working on Expelliarmus, and soon they had first and second years injuring each other all over. Hermione was kept busy with restorative potions and unhexing, while Harry, Luna, and Neville (Ginny missed DA for the first time, due to detention, Snape refusing to reschedule) moved about among them: reassuring them that injuries are typical and a sign of progress, showing them improved technique, and teaching them how to take a fall safely. By the end of the evening, every trainee could pronounce the spell correctly and at least make wands move. Harry gathered Ernie's forces as well as the trainees and praised all their effort and progress. He also announced that there would be separate sessions for patronus work on Monday evenings at the lethiform theater, but told the first and second years that until most of the upper year students who still needed to had mastered it, they would only be able to observe, due to the advanced nature of the spell. Clearly there was disappointment, but understanding.

Then Luna went out to tell the squadrons that the DA session was over. She was to explain the patronus training arrangement as well. After the full DA session came the advanced training for the team leaders and other advanced members, a group which had grown to nearly 100 members with the great progress of the past year. Harry had already begun practices with the advanced students who were already there when the others returned from flight practice, sunglasses firmly returned to their faces.

Thursday's practice went smoothly as well. There were just as many injuries, but a better class of them; that is, they were mostly the injuries that arise from doing the disarming spell pretty well, rather than from flubbing it. Ron and Ernie reported good progress with their sections as well, although their reports were necessarily and expectedly vague. Harry noticed that there were several members of each group missing, and Ron and Ernie mumbled something about injuries.

On Friday evening when dinner was over, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville started to head back toward Gryffindor tower. Harry was confronted by Draco Malfoy at the stairs.

"Potter," he sneered, "what do you think you're doing, taking all my dueling club's members away."

The rest started to put their hands near their wands, but Harry waved them down. "I just invite people to practice. If they want to come it's their business. They're welcome to come and learn what they can. So are you, Draco."

"It's Malfoy to you! You'd love that, wouldn't you, Potter? Always trying to show me up."

"No, Draco, not at all," Harry said resignedly. "You do that well enough on your own."

"Very clever, Potter, but your rabble should know how you're setting them up," said Malfoy. "The Dark Lord's going to eliminate anyone who stands in his way. The smart action is on joining him."

"I'd rather die alongside Harry than serve that loathsome murderer!" snapped Hermione.

"That goes for me, too!" said Neville.

Draco sneered in Hermione's face. "As if you'll be given any choice but to die, mudblood! And as for you Longbottom, I hope you know that you're just setting yourself up to join your parents!"

As soon as she heard the word mudblood, before even Ron could react, Ginny had her wand out and was ready to hex Draco. Neville's wand wasn't far behind at the mention of his parents. Before either could act however, Harry had grabbed his wands and said "Expelliarmus," throwing both of them back as their wands came to him. He put away his wands, and then he turned and handed them their wands as he helped them back up.

"Sorry about that, Ginny, Neville, but no one's going to hex anyone here over empty words."

After saying that, he winked at them and whispered, "Accio sunglasses."

Draco's sunglasses flew off his face to Harry's hand. Harry quickly withdrew his hand up the sleeve of his robe.

"No sunglasses, Malfoy," said Ron, gleefully. "Detention with Filch."

Draco sneered. "Like you could give detention to another prefect, Weasley!"

"Perhaps not," said Hermione, "but the Head Girl can, and you have two nights detention with Mr. Filch – one for the sunglasses and one for trying to avoid the appropriate punishment."

"But I didn't lose the sunglasses. You saw that he took them!"

"My attention was on Neville and Ginny to see that they weren't hurt."

"Is there a problem out here?"

Professor Sprout had apparently heard the commotion and had come from the Great Hall unnoticed.

"Professor, Potter summoned my sunglasses off of me so that Granger could give me detention."

"Mr. Potter, is this so?"

"Why, no, Professor Sprout. You can check my wands to see my last spell."

Professor Sprout did so. "Expelliarmus. Both of them. Potter, you were in my class just before dinner and you used Evanesco to clean up the strengthening potion. What reason would you have had for the disarming spell?"

"It's not his fault, Professor," spoke up Ginny. "I had pulled my wand on Malfoy when he called Hermione, erm, the m-word."

"And I pulled mine when he said something nasty about my parents," said Neville. "Harry was preventing hexing, not misusing magic."

"Still, use of magic in the halls is forbidden. Miss Granger, how far had you sorted this matter out when I arrived?"

"I had only been able to assess Malfoy with two detentions: one for the sunglasses and the other for arguing against the detention."

"Very well for Mr. Malfoy," replied Sprout.

"But Professor, Potter TOOK my glasses away by magic," interrupted Malfoy.

"Without using his wand? Is he that much more capable than you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Professor, I can prove it. He took my glasses and he hasn't had a chance to put them anywhere. Check him."

"Alright, then. Mr. Potter, you know I must be fair to all concerned."

"Certainly, Professor," replied Harry, pulling his robe off. "You can check all the pockets of my robe – you'll only find my wands. And here's everything in my pockets – my pocketknife, some old parchment I keep for taking notes, and a couple of owl treats I was taking up to my owl Hedwig."

"He must have transfigured the glasses," protested Malfoy.

"But his wand has been checked," said Ron. "Incidental magic without a wand would be one thing, but a transfiguration …?"

"Hmm," said Professor Sprout. "There's nothing here. Alright then, Malfoy, three detentions with Mr. Filch, the third one for wrongfully accusing Mr. Potter. Miss Weasley, for pulling your wand to use magic improperly, you'll have detention with Professor Snape again – let's see, that will have to be added on whenever your existing detentions are served. Mr. Longbottom, for the same infraction, you'll report tomorrow morning after breakfast for detention with me – the Venomous Tentaculas need their venom milked. And Mr. Potter, although it seems you prevented an improper use of magic, you nonetheless used magic in the halls against school rules, therefore you will receive detention with Professor Hagrid tomorrow morning after breakfast. Oh, and this scuffle will cost each of your houses ten points for each period of detention assessed."

No one dared say anything else but "Yes, Professor."

Out of earshot, after Draco had stormed off, Neville laughed. "Detention at the greenhouses – that's more of a picnic for me. Even the Venomous Tentaculas are more interesting than frightening, if you know how to handle them."

"Neville, you've become the Hagrid of Herbology," said Harry with a laugh. "My detention's okay, too. I'd probably have spent the time with Hagrid anyway."

"Hah!" said Ginny. "Easy for you two to laugh – I've got Snape AGAIN. I've seen more of him this week than I have of my own father since the end of last school year."

"Even so, it was worth it," said Ron. "That was a beautiful bit taking Malfoy's sunglasses."

"Absolutely," agreed Hermione.

"YOU'RE agreeing with Ron? About using magic on someone?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Why does everyone act so surprised when Ron is right? Malfoy needed comeuppance. It was a nonharmful use of magic and put him in his place. He won't be fooling with us unless he wants more trouble now."

Ron cupped his hands around Hermione's head and looked her into her sunglasses and grinned. "Hermione, I'm sure glad you didn't take what I shall call the 'Percy' path in being Head Girl."

"Harry," said Neville. "What happened to the sunglasses?"

Harry took out the owl treats and they changed into the pair of sunglasses.

"I practiced a lot of wandless transfigurations while I was recovering from the lethifold last year. So I guess I have Malfoy to thank for this. You know, I think I will go visit Hedwig. We can get a house owl while we're there to return these glasses to Malfoy for me – he'll be needing them. Anybody want to go to the owlery with me?"

Ron wanted to visit Pigwidgeon and the others decided to go along also.

"Harry," said Hermione. "I'm concerned about Malfoy's attitude. Did you, erm, check him while his glasses were off?"

"I thought you didn't want me to do that with anyone?"

"Well, it's not as if anyone on our side is going to tell Malfoy anything," replied Hermione.

"Neither is anyone on the Dark side. He's shot his mouth off too many times. They don't trust him with anything important."

"Is he doing anything for them?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, he tells his father what he sees here. Big deal – I see more of what they care about than he does and Voldemort can read that whenever he chooses."

"Still, it's good to know that we have to watch the greasy little ferret. Anything else?" asked Ron.

"He knows I can do some kinds of magic without a wand – I disarmed him last year without a wand after all – but he thinks I just passed the glasses off to one of you. He had enough sense not to push the point, since any of you would have an obvious excuse for having a spare pair of glasses."

"Well, I'd say he bears watching," said Neville. "We need to know what he's being told to find out about."

"Good thinking, Neville," said Ron.

"You know, Ginny," said Harry, "It could be worse. As much as I'm not fond of Snape, you've gotten used to his detentions. At least you didn't get Filch like Malfoy did."

"Ah, so there is a silver lining, eh?" grumbled Ginny, but with a playful smirk. "Well, you're just a Little Mary Sunshine, aren't you?"

Harry laughed and curtsied in his robe, before dodging the swipe of Ginny's hand.


	33. Classes Amid War

Chapter 32 Classes Amid War

It was good to be back to the relative comfort and familiarity of classes. Harry had been given permission to attend classes only as needed, except for Potions of course; however, as he thought about it, he realized he preferred to attend as many as he could. He already felt isolated being the only student without sunglasses and in many ways Harry was regarded by the other students as more of a teacher than a fellow student. The teachers, of course, never did so. This was all on top of all the other things that had set him apart – The Boy Who Lived, parseltongue, TriWizard Champion, etc. Class sessions helped to reestablish him as one member of the student body, albeit an exceptional one.

Everyone was regularly reminded as well of Harry's connection with Voldemort whenever he would suddenly break off what he was doing and begin writing down targets, while wincing with the pain in his scar, and then dash to a quiet spot to call Lupin on the mirror. Harry had standing permission to interrupt anything and leave any class for this purpose. Likewise, the student volunteers had standing permission to head for the fireplaces to take the Floo to the Ministry whenever Harry signaled an attack was on. On occasions this would leave 7th year classes with either no students or sometimes just Harry. Understandably, it was also somewhat difficult to get the students' focus back on classwork after they had just returned from battling dark wizards and witches and dementors.

Harry had to admit to himself how he ached to go on the response teams as well. He often discussed this with Reverend MacBoon in their sessions; Cameron helped Harry to view this as putting aside Harry's personal desire for adventure and playing the hero in favor of the greater good, and as such, it was not a burden, but an excellent opportunity at practicing further the sort of self-overcoming necessary to truly master universal love. Cameron guided Harry to the understanding that seeing to one's needs and even pursuing one's desires are not evil, so long as one does not hurt others in the process, but where others would be hurt, as in this case where Harry might be rendered unable to give warnings or oppose Voldemort, personal preferences must be graciously relinquished.

As with the previous year, Harry was well-focused on developing his skills. He believed it would render Sirius's death meaningless if he did not prepare with all his energy to successfully oppose Voldemort. If he ever felt like slacking off, a return to his room and a talk with Sirius's portrait brought it all back to him, even though the portrait Sirius encouraged him to mix some fun into his life as well. Harry had to admit that despite being more sociable than last year, he was dangerously close to becoming a real grind – he promised he would look for chances to just have fun.

Professor Snape appeared to put an emphasis on potions which had been developed fairly recently. Harry wondered if that was deliberate, intended either to help him with what he did not know through the scar connection or to trip him up by trying to catch him relying on what he knew through Voldemort. He recognized that assuming the choice of potions was based on his situation would be a rather paranoid train of thought, were it not for the fact that it was Snape, after all. Harry even let his control of legilemency lapse on one occasion when he looked up toward Professor Snape, who startled and then strode down the aisle to where Harry had returned his attention to his cauldron.

Snape spoke quietly but sternly. "Mr. Potter, I am excused from the obligation to wear those ridiculous sunglasses for good reason. You have been instructed not to use legilemency in the school, so of course, I knew that you would be violating that rule when it suited you. Consequently, I practice occlumency whenever I am in your vicinity – as does the Headmaster, I might add. I do not know what you were looking for, but I do not appreciate having you – particularly you – attempting to rummage around in my mind. For a first offense, I will let you by with only a single detention, only because I have already been so instructed. I believe Professor Sinistra has some chores that need doing and can supervise you tonight."

Harry hated to be caught out like that, but with his practice at self-examination, he realized that Professor Snape was right on all counts. Meekly he replied, "Yes, Professor." Then as Snape turned back toward the front of the room, Harry called quietly to him.

"What is it, Potter?" answered Snape with annoyance.

"You're right, Professor Snape. I let curiosity lead me to treat you poorly. I was wrong and I am sorry. Thank you for calling me on it."

A sincere decent apology from Harry Potter appeared to rankle Snape more than would have an evasion.

"Every time I think you cannot possibly find a way to be more annoying, you prove me wrong, Potter. Just get on with your potion, before your salamander hearts burst into flame."

At least Harry learned that he would never know the motive behind Snape's selection of potions. Having the matter settled was sufficient. Whatever the case, he accepted the challenges with vigor – one could never tell what skill or insight might turn the battle.

In Care of Magical Creatures, they were starting off with creatures likely to be on the NEWT. For September they studied runespoors, gnomes, murtlaps, and kneazles. Hermione needed little encouragement to bring Cruikshanks to class several days so that Hagrid could explain the features that identified him as half-kneazle rather than a typical muggle cat. As Hagrid explained it, a kneazle wasn't really a different species than a cat; rather they were to common cats what wizards are to muggles – simply the magical variety of the same creature. However, that, as well as the effects of wizard selection in breeding kneazles to their preferences, gave rise to particular characteristics, just as a tall or robust person is going to have differences in bone structure from a short or gracile one.

Herbology was focused on the most difficult and dangerous plants and fungi to grow. Most of them would require a special license for a witch or wizard to maintain and, especially, propagate them. Many of these required Charms or potions to achieve a state in which they could be used for magic. Timing and methodology were crucial – whether the potion should be applied to the roots or the leaves, and if to the leaves, should it be brushed on, sprayed or poured; whether the roots or stems should be clipped, or the flowers pinched to stimulate more potent growth; which insects or other creatures should be allowed to infest the plants to incite desired reactions; the variations for particular purposes went on and on. The class seemed at times more like Snape's Potions conducted with living things than what Harry had previously thought of as a sedate branch of magic. And yet it was not truly like Snape's Potions, because as exacting as this was, Neville seemed transformed whenever he was in the greenhouses and outdoor beds, confident and joyous to the point that he was almost unrecognizable from the young man in Potions who still cowered at Snape's sneer.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have made it her mission to find a transfiguration Harry could not do, often giving him pages of instructions at the beginning of class and setting him to work by himself for the session. As he completed each task, he would catch her attention, point out the result, and she would acknowledge it with a nod so that he could move on to the next one. Sometimes she would catch Hermione's attention and nod in Harry's direction; when she saw Harry's work, Harry would grin at her, and he could tell that both of them were quite put out at the ease with which he could perform these changes. This actually saddened him, however. First because he valued both these women so highly. And second, because they perceived this recent influx of knowledge as all benefit: they did not realize the extent of the burden that was involved in carrying Voldemort's memories and awareness around with him all the time. Sometimes he felt like telling them so, but then he would keep it to himself, not wanting to seem to be whinging about his burdens.

In Magical History, Professor Binns included the first new material to his standard lesson plan since Harry had arrived at Hogwarts. The history of the goblin rebellions had to be updated with the most recent events – those of the previous year which led up to the Battle of Gringott's. Of course, nearly all of the students had participated in the events, so it was all the more remarkable to them that Professor Binns was able to make the recounting of the matter so excruciatingly dull that they could not even stay awake to hear about their own role in the Battle. Harry decided that perhaps Magical History was one class for which he could skive off.

Hagrid proved to be a wonderful student to Harry. Of course, Hagrid had unbounded enthusiasm for getting himself fully qualified. In turn, Harry responded with equal enthusiasm, since Harry liked Hagrid, Harry enjoyed being able to look Hagrid in the eyes, and Harry found it a wonderful respite from the squabbling that still seemed to break out regularly among the older students. Both of them enjoyed the camaraderie of spending such good times with someone else who also knew how it felt to be only partly accepted and to be also the subject of usually-unspoken suspicion.

The DA as well went mostly very well. In addition to the first years, Harry had to bring those who had not been in last year's DA up to quality. This included almost 100 Hogwarts students, mostly Slytherins like Crabbe and Goyle who had refused to join last year, but had reconsidered when the killings had begun in earnest. It also included adults who had asked to join to work on their defensive skills as well. Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacouer were among these. Charlie Weasley also showed up when he was visiting, although he was still spending more of his time in Romania.

Most of the older and returning students picked up the skills very well. Harry had made a point of personally working with them to get them up to speed quickly. With their many more years of magical experience and the relative maturity of their powers, he knew they would come around quickly. He was right, to an extent that often surprised even them: the older trainees found themselves doing things they had never been able to accomplish before. The perkiness, even strutting, in their steps at the end of sessions was unmistakable. With each breakthrough, they would return for the nest session even more enthusiastic. By the end of September, nearly all of them had been integrated into the platoons or squadrons.

Skills continued to develop among the rest of the DA as well. Although platoon and squadron leaders worked with their members on skills, they did not hesitate to ask Ron or Ernie for help, and when there still seemed to be a problem, neither hesitated to refer the member to Harry. Nor was there grumbling about being referred, as no one perceived it as a punishment but rather a favored opportunity: when Harry got involved, he not only got a person past the immediate problem, but sharpened up all of their spell and dueling skills. At the first session with squadrons, the broom corps had to go down the stairs and out through the great front doors; this took time from training, particularly for those referred to Harry for some work. Thereafter, to save time, Harry wished that the Room of Requirement had a rooftop entrance during training, and as soon as he wished it, it did.

Still, it nagged at Harry that despite the high levels of performance, fights and arguments kept breaking out. It always seemed to be over petty things, but it had come to spells being exchanged more than once. He, Hermione and Katie tried to unhex people, but at least nightly, at least one older student had to be taken to the Hospital Wing, in addition to the 10-20 younger students who were injured by classmates beyond the capacity of on-site healing. Harry tried to tell himself that it was just the stress of the war and training, but he remained concerned that there were more deep-seated rifts, all the more so because Voldemort began to take an interest in the squabbling as a weakness which could be exploited.

Not everyone found September to be so smooth. Somehow Ginny ran afoul of some rule or another often enough that she was in detention almost every evening. Luckily it hadn't cost Gryffindor many points, and she found a way to avoid detention on quidditch nights. It had gotten so bad that the twins started making book on how long she would go before getting another detention and what sort of infraction it would be. Ginny did not take to this very well. The one thing the twins would not make book on was who her detention would be with: it was always Snape, and he always assigned her to clean various parts of the castle non-magically. She even had to send an owl to her mother for additional jeans, as the knees of hers were getting worn through by the hard stone floors. She borrowed Hedwig for this, since Pig would be completely unable to handle a package with clothing in it.

Near the end of September, an announcement went out that Melony was to start giving a series of talks from the goblin viewpoint. She was going to start with several talks on magical history. Harry made sure he could attend, both for the information and because he had hardly seen Melony or Dobby since he had been back. Both looked too funny in their wrap-around sunglasses. Melony seemed to enjoy them, as it made the relatively bright lights of Hogwarts castle seem as dim as the goblin homes underneath Gringotts. Dobby just seemed excited to have yet one more way he could wear clothes.

Melony's first seminar was very well attended, by students and faculty alike. Afterwards, Harry noticed Madame Maxime engage Melony in a discussion which went on for quite some time. Harry found out at the next Defense lesson what much of that discussion must have been about.

"Cheeldren," began Madame Maxime, "I know you are all familiar with anti-Apparation spells to prevent ze particular sorcerer from disapparating. Most of you can pairform ze various vairsions quite well. 'owevair, at times, you weell 'ave need to protect an area from sorcerers apparating into or out of eet. As you know, thees castle is protected with such a charm. Beauxbatons as well is protected in this manner. When you 'ave 'omes of your own, you may wish to protect zem with antiapparation spells, especially if you are unable yourself to apparate. The spells can also be used for businesses and open areas and adjusted to allow certain magical beings to Apparate while blocking uzzers. This is not a field of expertise for me. 'owever, I recently learned that we 'ave a staff member who is an expert on zese spells. We will 'ave a series of guest lectures on these spells by Melony, 'ogwarts' resident goblin. She was raised in a goblin tribe, called a 'ullaballoo, in Gringotts. The goblins have long made a study of anti-apparation charms as part of their defenses against sorcerers. I 'ope you will all make Melony feel welcome and listen attentively."

Melony rose from the child-size chair she had been sitting in and approached Madame Maxime. Her ears barely cleared Maxime's knees, but they looked each other face-to-face, gave each other the 'air kisses' which are so typically French, and thanked each other. Then Melony ascended a podium which had been placed for her use.

Over the next three class sessions, Melony described the theory, use, effectiveness and adaptability of anti-Apparation spells. Harry found it most fascinating that unlike most spells, these spells generally required multiple magical beings, though it was not necessary that all of them be able to perform magic themselves. The strength of the protection depended on the strength of the primary spellsayer and the others involved, but the area which could be covered was more dependent on the variety of magical beings involved. She described how the goblins of Gringotts would employ a cooperative witch or wizard and a vampire or werewolf when they needed to renew the charm protecting Gringotts, as must be done periodically. Three different beings gave them the protection that a space the size of Gringotts' needed, at least when the primary spellsayer was a goblin mother protecting her home.

Hermione raised her hand. "Excuse me, Melony, how large an area could be protected by such a spell?"

"There are many factors, Miss Granger, but with the right combination of beings and particularly powerful participants, you could probably protect the entire Hogwarts grounds and several miles in all directions, including the Forest, the lake and Hogsmeade all at once from apparation or disapparation by all but the most powerful of sorcerers."

This explanation drew appreciative murmurs from nearly the entire class.

Then Melony added, "Mind you, I cannot be too sure about how long-lived such an expansive spell would be, but the question was the maximum area, not how stable such a spell would be."

At the end of the month, Harry learned of a new plan to emotionally undermine him. He called Dumbledore on the mirror.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Harry, is it another attack? Is Remus unavailable/"

"No, Professor, it's not an imminent attack. But Voldemort has approved a proposal by Lucius Malfoy to attack someone I care about."

"I see, and I assume that the target was not named, since you have not said who it is."

"Exactly. Voldemort has not explained to his followers the extent of the connection, but he did prevent Malfoy from giving the details."

"What do you know about it?"

"Voldemort made sure it was not a physical attack on me, but said other than that, the Death Eaters could hurt or kill anyone they chose to."

"I see, Harry. Was Voldemort using legilemency during this talk?"

"No, Professor. He turned his back. He doesn't know how to suppress it any other way, and he doesn't care to learn that from me. Professor, it seems to me that we are all pretty safe on the grounds here, unless there was an attack of such a scope that he would have to be told first."

"Yes, I believe that's true."

"But what about other situations? How about the Dursleys – I've actually become fond of them over the past couple of years."

Dumbledore smiled. "The protection that you have there was reciprocal. As you still consider it your home, that household is still protected, not just when the people are in the house, but in all their activities – even more so because you are fond of them. It would take an attack by Voldemort himself to get to them, and you would know about that in advance as soon as he formed the intention."

"How about Mrs. Figg?"

"She is well-protected. Just trust me on that."

"Yes, sir. Then there are Hermione's parents and the other muggle parents."

"Measures have been taken."

"Yes, sir. How about the Weasleys?"

"Molly and Arthur are living at Grimmauld Place, as you know, and are quite safe there. Arthur apparates directly to the Ministry of Magic. Security isn't perfect there, but it has been tightened considerably. I'll relay this new threat to him for appropriate response. The older brothers are all living at Diagon Alley, and participate in mutual defense with the other sorcerers and goblins there. It is a difficult area for an attack. All the other sorcerers you know are either there or in a similarly safe location, such as Longbottom Manor."

"Well, that leaves students on their way to Hogsmeade and people going on missions. Perhaps they are going to increase the size of raiding parties so they can disrupt rescues. They could cause a lot of injuries to defenders and allow the dementors a chance to give the Kiss."

"As for Hogsmeade, it too is protected by mutual defense efforts. I'll discuss the other possibility with others, but I don't want to say anything about a possible response in front of you."

"Of course. We have to keep things confidential. I understand. It's hard being on the outside like this, you know."

"I'm sure it is, Harry, but you aren't really on the outside. You are training people to be great fighters, and then letting others choose and implement strategy. You need not feel responsible for everything. Let others do what they are good at."

"Of course, but there's been a lot of squabbling among the older students. I hope the stress of the war isn't starting to divide us."

"Always trust, Harry, that we are all loyal."

"But loyalty won't carry the day when people cannot even work together."

"So far they remain very highly effective."

"I'll accept that for now, Professor, although I am not entirely convinced. Even Voldemort has noticed it - to his pleasure. Well, then that about covers it. I can't think of anyone else who becomes vulnerable."

"'Constant Vigilance!'" said Dumbledore with a wink. "I'm glad you've let me know about this, Harry. Try to trust that we will cover everyone."


	34. In the Rectory

Chapter 34 In the Rectory

For Harry, a counseling session with Hogwarts' chaplain was even more regular than classes. Three or four times a week,for at leastan hour each session, he would go to the rectory and sit with Cameron in the den or at the kitchen table working intensively on attaining the ability to let go and forgive all wrongs, so as to serenely love all beings. During these sessions, Harry rarely felt serene. Rather, Cameron would lead him through all sorts of exercises which brought out all his angers and resentments, over real or imagined offenses. Cameron had made it a practice to ask Harry to place his wands on the mantle to at least put the idea of striking out magically out of his mind.

It was late September during one such meeting, a particularly tense session, that Harry was shocked to see Narcissa Malfoy, in Death Eater robes and wearing mirrored sunglasses, bursting in on them. She held her wand to Cameron's head and taunted Harry. Harry wanted to go for his wands, but she summoned them. Harry kept her talking until he saw her glance away and he shouted "Expelliarmus," stripping her wand from her and knocking her against the mantle, where she dropped semiconscious.

"Help her, Harry," called Cameron, catching his breath from having the wand poking into his throat.

"Help her? She's …"

"She's disarmed and injured. Put aside your resentments and forgive her."

Harry hesitated for several seconds and then knelt beside her. First he removed his wands and then checked her pulse and the knot at the back of her head. As he leaned in close, she suddenly grabbed around his shoulders, pulled him close and began kissing him.

"Ooooh! I've missed that," she squealed, kicking her feet happily, as Harry saw her transforming from Narcissa into Tonks.

Cameron frowned. "Tonks, you were supposed to carry it out longer than that."

"I know, Rev, but he's so cute and he was so close," she said with a giggle, then adding more seriously, gingerly touching the part of her head which had hit the mantle, "and besides, this was making it hard to maintain the transformation."

"That's all right, then," said Cameron. "We hadn't anticipated how strong he was wandless. It's a good thing he didn't have his wands on him."

"Very clever, you two," said Harry finally, "only I was suspicious from the start when she was wearing shades."

Cameron wagged a finger. "Aah, but no doubt young Mr. Malfoy has informed his mother about the sunglasses and the reason for wearing them. She would of course wear them to protect herself from you."

"Well, that's why I wasn't certain until I disarmed her. Then again, the attack seemed like something out of someone's poorly written adventure story. But finally there was the dead giveaway."

Tonks peered at him resentfully. "Oh, yeah, Potter – I happen to know I looked just like Aunt Narcissa, so how can you say you could tell I wasn't her?"

Harry smiled both wickedly and fondly. "You may have looked like Madame Malfoy, but you still smelled – and tasted – like Tonks."

Tonks grinned. "Fine, then, Potter. You just make sure you kiss any Death Eater before you fight them."

"Oh, yeah? Well, you'd better make sure Cameron's holding my wands before you show up again looking like one of them, or a knot on your conk will be the least of your worries. And Tonks – I'd hate to do anything bad to you: you're far lovelier as yourself than as anyone I've seen you mimic."

"You see, Cameron," said Tonks with bemused exasperation, "how can I stay mad at someone who says things like that?"

After Tonks had left, Harry asked Cameron about miracles.

"I take it you've been reading your Bible apart from our sessions," said Cameron.

"Yeah, some, when I get the chance."

"Yes, I can see how time must weigh heavily on your hands."

"There are slow times when everyone is occupied or I can't get to sleep, especially if I've waked up to call in an attack response. I started looking at the study guides. I read the historical context and about sacrifices and atonement and other stuff, and then came across the section on miracles."

"Ah, well, Harry, that's a tough topic for several reasons. The most important one is that I feel the stories about Jesus performing miracles distracts from the more important message, that we should live our lives loving all people."

"Okay, I can see that. What else?"

"Well, being in the magical world, it can be hard to sort out miracles from magic."

"Maybe Jesus was a wizard."

"Somehow that doesn't seem right."

"Why? A wizard is just a regular person with a particular capability. Maybe 'miracle' is how the people of the time explained magic."

"Well, 'magic' was the explanation for most of what they didn't understand. It would be odd to then explain other unexplainable things by a different term. But maybe 'miracle' is the word when the odd things are done by a religious figure and 'magic' is the word used when the person is not religious."

"Or perhaps when the person telling about it doesn't agree with the religion of the person doing the fantastical thing?"

"Aye, I'm sure that plays in as well. It's also hard to put Old Testament miracles into a neat context, because they are really all over the board, from raining fire to prophetic talking donkeys."

Harry started to speak, but Cameron quickly cut him off, "Nae, I don't think it was a mistaken reference to centaurs."

"Actually I was going to make a comparison to Professor Trelawney."

"That's e'en worse, Harry. Saying contemptuous things about people is as bad as striking out at them. You don't have to buy into everything they're about, but don't denigrate the person. Understand that almost everyone is trying to do what appears to them to be the best they can do, it's just that we have varying degrees of short-sightedness."

"Even Umbridge? Even Voldemort?"

"Aye. They are doing what they perceive to be the best they can. She sees only support for the Ministry powers-that-be as 'the good' and Voldemort sees no other value than himself."

"Then who am I to say they are wrong: how do we know what's right?"

"We are told to 'test everything, retain that which is good' – and by the way, most of that testing can and should be done by thinking things through – and we know the standard of goodness is universal love."

"You'll have me fitted for angel wings yet, won't you?"

"Would it be so bad to be saintly? Most people go through life with their souls incomplete or even fractured by their callous disregard of others. Someone who exercises his body well develops a magnificent physique. I'll admit I'd love to see you develop a magnificent soul. There was a line from a song when I was a young man "You have to be whole to be holy" – that's what we are working toward: a healthy, wholesome, magnificent soul."

"So I can have the power to defeat Voldemort?"

"Nae. Well, maybe, but that's only the short-term goal. Set your sights beyond him. Whatever happens regarding him, you can become serene and as one with all Creation if you fully practice universal love, and you cannot do that if merely defeating Voldemort is your only goal."

"'Merely'?"

Cameron smiled, "It's a big task, but it is still short-term and narrow. You need to see the entire horizon."

"Okay, I'll think on that. So: back to miracles."

"Right. I also believe the role of miracles in the New Testament is ambiguous. Some people want to say that they prove that Jesus was God in human form; that doesn't work very well because Jesus never claimed that it was he working, but God working through him. And whatever his relationship with God, if he did not have just the awareness of self that a human has, then the example of his life and the sacrifice of his death and resurrection lose some or all of their meaning.

"There was a time when the stories of his miraculous healings were taken as proof that he was rightly a king: it used to be believed that the touch of a king could heal. People with scrofula would jockey for an opportunity to be touched by a king. Not surprisingly, the kings did not often agree to go around touching sickly peasants. It was unpleasant, they weren't too fussed what happened to any particular peasant, and worst of all, if the sick person did not heal, others could take this as proof that the king was not the rightful king. Nowadays, of course, we don't really expect Prince Charles to ascend to the throne and go through the hospitals healing people."

"It'd be pretty neat, though, wouldn't it?"

"Well, it would certainly justify the maintenance costs on the monarchy," agreed Cameron. "Another problem I have with the claims of miracles is that some of the stories may well have been embellished or exaggerated over the years before they were written down. Reputedly the gospels were written by four of his actual disciples, and there are whole or partial copies that go back to the first century A.D., either during their lifespans or soon after, but still there is a lot of room for honest doubt."

"But … you're a reverend. Aren't you supposed to believe that the Bible is absolutely true?"

"I believe there is a lot of truth to it and even more of wisdom, but to believe that the Bible is absolutely factually true, I'd have to believe mutually contradictory creation stories and genealogies, that God made the Earth and its creatures the way they are for the purpose of deceiving us, and that the value of pi – the ratio of the diameter to the circumference of a circle – is precisely 3, when it is very simply and irrefutably demonstrable that pi is significantly more than 3. Worst of all, I would have to accept the perfection of an artifact, the Bible. Only God is perfect – to hold anything else as perfect is idolatry. If nothing else, no language is perfect and the ability to communicate in any language is imperfect. Even if God dictated every word Himself, the words themselves are limited, our understanding of them varies from person to person, and their meanings drift over time. The people who worship the Bible as inerrant are simply avoiding the more difficult task of living their lives by the message of the Bible. And that is?"

"That we love all beings as ourselves," answered Harry.

"Excellent. But since you've asked, let's take a look at the miracles, and see what we can make of them. Did you look at all of them or just Jesus' miracles?"

"I saw some in both the Old and New Testament. In the Old Testament, I saw about the sun standing still for a day, those Egyptian plagues, that burning bush, erm, there were others, I forget some."

"Do those bother you?"

"Well, some are just strange. And women having babies for the first time when they are really old is weird, but in a sense beautiful – they clearly wanted babies very badly, so it's kind of neat. But there was the Flood, and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and those plagues in Egypt: those were really awful, terribly cruel."

"Yeah. They are hard to reconcile with a merciful God. Supposedly, the Flood and the cities' destruction had to be done because the people had become so evil, but it's hard to believe that everyone was so bad. And even so, the response of sending someone to preach repentance, like in the Jonah story, seems to make more sense. Supposedly Lot was given the chance to find good people in Sodom and Gomorrah, but he could not: maybe so for the adults, but why all the children as well? And according to Exodus, after all the other plagues, a lot of innocent children – just innocent children - were killed to make the Egyptians finally allow the Hebrews to leave. It's usually explained as necessary to allow the Hebrews to return to Canaan. It seems like a horrible way to do that. We're left just throwing up our hands and saying 'It's God's will.' I know His ways are beyond our understanding, but some things are just mysterious, like quantum mechanics, while wholesale slaughter seems malevolent."

"It's comforting to know you don't understand those things either."

"No, not those. I'm better with the desert guidance and the manna to feed the Hebrews."

"That seems more like a merciful image."

"Of course, God allows natural disasters large and small to occur and afflict the innocent as well."

Harry nodded. "Somehow, letting the forces of the Earth play themselves out, even if people are sometimes in the way, seems very different than deliberately raining death and destruction on people, especially innocents."

"Yeah. No doubt the way God is presented in the Bible shifts over the centuries. From the beginning, however, he is shown as being forgiving in many circumstances. Let's talk about Jesus' miracles."

Harry straightened up and looked up as he recalled what he had read. "Okay, the first one I saw was changing water into wine."

"Yes, his first miracle reported in the gospels, at the wedding in Cana."

"I would not even call that a miracle – quite a few of us here can do that."

"Sure, making spirits is one of the first skills the students work on privately. Then there was feeding 5000 people by making bread and fishes multiply enough to feed them."

"Hm, you don't suppose he had a house elf, do you?"

"I think it might have been noted."

"That goes beyond wizard talents. We can make things appear temporarily, or transfer them from somewhere, but they don't just come from nowhere."

"Well, it has long been suggested that actually as the food was distributed, the people in the crowd, inspired by the sharing, brought out supplies they had hidden."

"So maybe not really a miracle."

"Well, I think it's a miracle whenever people are moved to share with others, particularly those they don't even know. But it's not the sort of miracle we're talking about. He was said to have walked across water."

"Hm. The closest I know of for a wizard doing that would be freezing the water ahead of him, unless there was a hidden helper."

"And on another occasion he was in a boat on a stormy lake and he commanded the storm to stop and the seas to become still."

"Wow. Controlling storms." Harry searched in his and Voldemort's minds a minute, until he had to rub the sides of his head. "Stirring up a storm can be done by a powerful wizard, and then he can undo what's been done – any chance Jesus started that storm?"

Cameron shook his head. "According to the story, he had been asleep until the storm looked like it would sink the boat he and his disciples were in. The most common and important miracles, however, were healings and raising from the dead."

"No potions, I take it."

Cameron smiled. "No, no potions. In one case, he made some mud with dust and his spit, and smeared it on a blind man's eyes, and when the blind man washed it off, the blindness was gone."

"Wow, the best we wizards can do is a magical eye, like Professor Moody's."

"In other instances, he cast out demons, made a lame man walk, relieved paralysis, stopped a woman's uncontrollable bleeding – you get the idea."

"Casting out demons? What kind?"

"That's really hard to say. It sounds like the people who had them may have been mentally ill."

"Well, curing mental illness is pretty impressive."

"Yes, it was, and the stories spread all around as you may imagine. There are several stories also of Jesus bringing people back to life who were either dead or near-dead – a man named Lazarus, a Jewish girl, a Roman centurion's daughter."

"Any chance that they were just in a coma or something."

"Of course, that is a possibility, and many people have argued that it must be so. In at least one of the cases, Jesus described a girl as merely sleeping, not actually dead. Either he was being a very keen observer or he was attempting to avoid attention. We cannot be certain that any of those people was dead. Now, do you believe what we are discussing?"

"I believe the Bible says it, because I have learned I can trust you. It's a lot to swallow to accept all those stories."

"Yes, it is, and many mighty theologians have struggled over them. You are in very good company with your doubts. For non-magical folks, such powers are unthinkable, but you have many powers. What would you think of being able to do those things?"

Harry thought a while. "Well, the simpler things would be fine – walking on water, making food or other things multiply. Maybe even stopping storms would be okay, especially since there aren't all that many violent storms here in Britain. But healing and raising from the dead – no, thanks."

"That's interesting. Why not?"

"I've already got enough on my plate. I have a lot of powers to try to use responsibly, to say nothing of dealing with the Voldemort connection. Power over life and death is just too much responsibility."

"Well, in a way, any of us already has power over life, in that we already have ways we can kill."

"Right then, to heal or raise from the dead is power over death. That's too much. I'm quite willing to save a life by averting threats: I can fight and teach other to do so. Some people say I look for trouble, but I'd like to think that it's just being willing to exercise my power for life by opposing those who would use those ways to kill people."

"Maybe the thought of your own death does not seem significant to you."

Harry thought. Then he looked up at Cameron. "You might be right. I don't want to die, but after a fashion it doesn't seem that terrifying either, especially if it saved those I love."

Cameron blinked his eyes. "Explain to me a bit more why it would be so bad to be ableto beat death directly."

"The thought of being able to save lives that way is just too much. We laughed about Prince Charles passing through the hospitals, healing them all, but what kind of an existence would that be, always seeking out the sick and healing them."

"Do you really think he would spend every waking minute doing so?"

"I don't see how a person who could do that could bring themselves to do anything else. The problem isn't saving people's lives – that would be great. The problem is being forced to choose. Could you just let someone die if it was in your power to save them?"

Cameron swallowed and nodded thoughtfully. "I hope not, Harry. But I wouldn't be the first Christian who spoke a better game than he played."

"Maybe that's why it was supposed to be kings who had the power – who else would be able to think himself so far more important than others that he could just let others suffer or die, having the power to change it."

"Well, it's not as if the idea's been tested – kingly healing powers were just a myth."

"It's just as well. If a person had power like that and he had any decency at all, he'd have to be doing it all the time. There'd be nothing else. It would be playing god to say no."

"You know, Harry, in all the times I've read about the miracles, I've never thought of them like that. It always just seemed wonderful that people were healed."

"Well, of course it's wonderful."

Cameron nodded. "But that's what makes it scary, too."

"Yeah. I'll stick to training for a battle, if you don't mind."

"Don't worry, Harry. We don't really get choices that way. Although, …"

"What?" said Harry apprehensively.

"Well, the Bible promises us that whatever we pray for will be granted. I think it's got to be prayed for with a pure heart and proper purposes, but it's quite a promise."

"Then there shouldn't be any sick people, at least nothing serious."

"You'd think so. I guess sometimes God says no."

Harry nodded. "Still, praying for healing is way different from being able to do it by powers. With praying for it, it might not happen and if not, at least you asked."

"What do you pray for, Harry?"

"Oh, you know: world peace, an end to hunger, the knowledge of how to defeat Voldemort – the usual."

Cameron smiled. "Yeah, the usual. Nothing specific?"

"I've never really learned to pray."

"We'll have to have a lesson on that soon: prayer helps even if you aren't too sure what you believe. If nothing else, it helps focus the spirit. So what would you pray for?"

Harry looked into the crackling fire for a few seconds, and then nodded. "I'd want a way to stop all the fighting between the students. I'm really scared that we are making a target of ourselves by the fighting. It's mostly the group leaders, although lately it has spread to others. If we can't work together, we'll be toast if Voldemort's forces decide to attack."

"Hmm."

"What? It sounds like you know something."

Cameron smiled. "I might but I can't tell you."

"Ah, it's a secret!"

"No, I mean I literally cannot tell you. I can't even think about what it is. There was just a twinge. The enchantments of a pastor in the wizarding world make it impossible for me while I am around someone else to even hold in my conscious mind what has been said in confidence to me. Perhaps someone has said something to me in confession or counseling. It's most likely that someone came to me to discuss guilt over hexing someone. I simply can't know at this moment. I don't even know who might have said something, but it would come back to me when I'm alone or with that person. Use your legilemency if you want: you'll see there is nothing I am holding back from you."

Harry hung his head. "No, I trust you. I just hoped something you knew would give me a clue."

"The only thing I can tell you is to keep trying to do the best you can."


	35. Storm Clouds

Chapter 35 Storm Clouds

October brought cold, increased rain, and wind. That did not stop Ron from conducting outdoor squadron training. On one particularly cold, wet and gusty night, Harry asked if they wouldn't rather do indoor drills.

Ron declined. "It's just like quidditch," he explained. "You can't just decide to hold off on fighting until the weather's nice."

The members of the squadron looked around at each other and after a leaden pause, they started to cheer. However, Harry found out later that Katie had to unhex Ron no less than 18 times.

More and more of the trainees were able enough to be integrated into units. Once they had mastered the basic disarming, blocking and disabling spells, they were ready to join a unit. This way they would see the improvement they would need to stand against real fighters. The team leaders would teach them additional spells as they practiced. Being treated as fully participating members of units encouraged all to work on their skills diligently and progress was obvious.

Harry began to be concerned about Ginny, however. She was missing as many sessions as she was attending. She couldn't hold her tongue in class and kept getting detentions. Harry had known for a couple of years that she had the twin's penchant for sass and sarcasm, but he was surprised she couldn't curb it even long enough to avoid discipline. He made an offer, which was accepted, to give her a half hour of private dueling and spells training before breakfast twice a week, scheduling them so as to avoid his on-going training sessions with Professor Flitwick. Harry found himself hoping that she enjoyed those sessions as much as he did.

Harry learned through his scar connection that the Dark forces were starting to suffer greater attrition in their raids. He tried to ask Dumbledore and Remus about what changes had been made in their strategies in responding, but they not only would not tell him but also specifically instructed him not to try to get the information from the students. He only needed to be reminded that revealing strategies would tend to make them more vulnerable. Harry warned them, though, that the success of the responses was causing Voldemort to seek other strategies. They acknowledged what Harry told them, but allowed no response.

October also brought the first Quidditch matches. Gryffindor's first match was against Hufflepuff mid-month. While Hufflepuff had been a patsy the year before, they returned their entire team and this year had no weak positions, though no dominating positions either – they were simply a solid team. Rather than try to run up the score, Ron instructed Harry to focus on simply getting the snitch as quickly as possible. Harry took that to heart, especially since he had it in the back of his mind that if he were killed this way, it would destroy Voldemort's power. He would seek the snitch, but he wouldn't hold back in any way. When he saw the snitch near the goalposts, he gave pursuit at blurring speeds. Showing the effects of his training program he put on maneuvers that were breathtaking, whizzing between the goal posts, corkscrewing between other players, stooping to within inches of the ground, rocketing upward only to make hairpin turns before finally catching up with the snitch and grabbing it, securing a Gryffindor victory. At the end of the month, Slytherin also won over a Ravenclaw team which had three new players.

Near the end of the month, Ginny again needed new jeans, as hers were once more worn through by her detentions, so Harry again allowed her to send Hedwig with an owl post to ask Mrs. Weasley for some new ones. This was a particularly good opportunity for Hedwig as the weather had finally cleared with the coming of a frosty-cold and dry weather system. If only the ground were covered in snow, the conditions would have been as close to her native tundra as could be.

The Halloween decorations were splendid as usual. Hagrid had allowed Harry Hermione, Ron and Neville to practice their developing herbology skills on the pumpkins he grew for the Feast. Not only were they able to induce them through engorgement charms and magical fertilizers to grow so large that even Hagrid had to levitate them to move them, but they also got the pumpkins to grow into monstrous shapes. They looked as if werewolves, hags, vampires, trolls, and ghouls were attempting to emerge right through the tops of the pumpkins.

Hagrid had also acquired in early October a shipment of magical bats which they studied in Care of Magical Creatures. Being domesticated, the magical bats did not have to hibernate once the cold put an end to the supply of flying insects; instead, when not flying they perched happily in the thatch of Hagrid's hut and eating and drinking whatever meats and blood he brought them. As they became more familiar with the bats, the class was able to teach them to fly in formation for the Halloween Feast.

The Halloween Feast was near an end when the sound of wings at the upper windows was heard. As it was enchanted to do when a post owl arrived, one of the windows opened and Hedwig tumbled through. Screams arose from those over whom the snowy owl glided. Rather than her usual graceful flight, Hedwig was terribly unsteady and barely keeping from falling. Still carrying the pairs of new jeans, she crashed into Ginny. Harry immediately noticed a growing puddle of red around his beloved owl and pulled a wing back to discover that her left leg had been sliced off at the knee joint. She was bleeding profusely. Ginny immediately used a napkin to stanch the blood loss. Further screams went up all around from those close enough to see. Hagrid saw that Hedwig was hurt and immediately began making his way through the students, pulling his creature care supplies from his pockets as he came.

Harry trembled with rage initially at the horror of what had been done to his innocent pet. As he stared at her, overcome with guilt and grief at the gruesome injury, he felt his own left leg begin to ache, and Hedwig turned her head and hooted weakly at him. He began to breathe more deeply and composed himself. His mind raced feverishly.

Then Harry remembered. He had seen this sort of thing before. As he searched his mind, he realized that he knew what to do - only he could do it better than he had seen before. Harry waved Hagrid back as he reached the table. Harry pulled his wand, mumbling an incantation and performing a complicated series of motions with his wand, and then thrust it at Hedwig's bloody stump. Instantly there appeared where her leg should have been a new one. It was steely in appearance but very light: titanium. It would be light enough for flight, extremely strong, free from rust or tarnish and the talons were completely mobile and needle-sharp.

Harry lifted Hedwig and brushed her head feathers as Hagrid gave her a blood restorative. Hagrid then gestured for Harry to hand Hedwig over.

Hagrid peered closely at Harry's magical talon. "That stopped the blood loss. That'll give her a chance. I'll take 'er to me cabin. She's terribly weak, but I'll do everything I can."

"I know she couldn't be in better hands, Hagrid," replied Harry, trying to control himself.

"And if I ever get hold of whoever done this, they'll be lucky if I do no more to them than what they did to her."

Harry clamped his eyes shut, holding back the tears. Then he said, as much to convince himself as Hagrid, "No, Hagrid. We must forgive, even the most awful of things. We will not return evil for evil, but just try to stop it."

"Sure, Harry, whatever you say. You let me work with 'er a bit, then you come 'round."

Harry watched as Hagrid carried Hedwig out of the Great Hall, cradling her like a newborn baby. Then Harry also walked out of the Hall, with his best friends all around him, silently comforting him. They had almost reached the stairs when they heard the Great Hall door open again.

"Potter!" It was Malfoy, who sounded jubilant. "Hey, Potter!"

Harry looked over his shoulder to see Malfoy wave a roast chicken leg in the air, then take a bite. He smacked his lips and said "Mmm! Tastes like chicken."

"Malfoy, don't!" said Hermione.

But Malfoy was not to be deterred. Grinning evilly, he added, " – now there's a real owl treat."

No one even saw Harry draw his wands but instantly he was turned toward Malfoy with a wand in each hand. Harry's eyes blazed red with a venom his friends had never seen before. The air around Harry shimmered like a mirage. Hermione told Dennis Creevey to get the professors as Harry's friends tried to calm him.

Harry's left arm and wand were suddenly thrust in the air, beating it with deliberate circular swipes. As he did so enormous black clouds boiled upward, filling the entire open space between the stairs. The clouds roiled and took on a deep red aspect and lightning slashed viciously between and out of the clouds. Peeves the poltergeist emerged through the stairs and was suddenly sucked up into the vortex of the storm and blown far down a sixth floor corridor. Draco shifted his head up and down from the seething clouds above him to Harry's right hand wand, which was by then pointed right at Malfoy's heart.

"Harry, no, he's not worth it!" yelled Ron.

"His FATHER mutilated Hedwig and HE makes light of it! And you tell me not to do anything!" Harry breathed deeply and deliberately.

"Harry," shouted Hermione over the roar of the winds emanating from the clouds. "Practice forgiveness and goodwill – that's what we learned in Egypt. You have to do it."

Harry did not answer her but he continued to draw a bead on Draco, as if contemplating what sort of hex would be severe enough. By now the professors and most of the students were standing in the now-open doors of the Great hall, not daring to confront directly either the lightning storm or the evident wrath. Harry's right hand clenched on the wand. Professor McGonagall attempted to call to him, but the roar of the storm winds was too great. Ginny stepped in front of his wand and gently placed her hand on his lower arm in a silent plea for him to relent. Harry looked into her face, pain in his eyes, and then thrashed his wand over her shoulder toward Draco who was struck squarely in his chest and then doubled over cackling with laughter.

"Harry, was that a … a cheering charm?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah," said Harry, straightening up from his attack posture, and beginning to swirl his left hand wand the opposite direction, clearing up the black clouds. As they disappeared, Harry used his right hand wand to clear up the rain that had fallen on the various floors and to straighten the furniture, suits of armor, and paintings blown out of place.

"Why a cheering charm?" asked Neville, as the clean-up was concluded.

Harry looked at him weakly, as if his energy was all spent. "Thanks to all of you, I got hold of myself enough not to hurt him. I could feel Voldemort fueling the fires of my rage, but you, all of you, beat him back with your support and care. Still I couldn't completely restrain myself from hitting Draco with something for his making light of something so hideous, so I chose something non-injuring."

"I'm not so sure about that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, as she approached him. "While you were dealing with the clean-up, several of the professors, including myself, have tried to lift the Charm and we have been unable to do so. Look at him there – laughing uncontrollably, rolling on the floor: he can't even catch his breath beyond a few gasps. Just how strong a charm was that?"

"I gave it everything I could, Professor."

"Can you lift it? He could actually die laughing at this rate."

"I'll try. I was very angry before,"

Harry pulled his wand and called out "Finite Incantatem!" The spell did not lift entirely, but left Malfoy able to breathe and only giggling madly rather than howling as before.

"That's better. Madam Pomfrey should be able to help him from this point, although it could take a few days for the spell to wear off," said Professor McGonagall. "You are aware, Potter, that you must have detention for this. Given the provocation, I think one detention will do. I want you to report immediately to Reverend MacBoon. I think sorting things out concerning your owl is the best detention for you right now."

"Yes, Professor McGonagall. Thank you," said Harry. "Before I go to the rectory, Professor, may I check on Hedwig?"

"I think you are a bit overwrought for that right now. You two Creeveys, go check on the owl and carry a report back to Mr. Potter at the rectory. And you three," she said, indicating Ginny, Ron and Neville, "I want you to accompany Mr. Potter there. Miss Granger, don't protest. As Head Girl, you are needed to assist in restoring order right now."

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione. Then she whispered to Harry, "I'm so proud of the way you controlled your anger. Under all the circumstances, that must have been a monumental effort."

Harry nodded acknowledgement. "I think I'd better go to the rectory, Hermione. We can talk later."

At the rectory door, Neville knocked. Reverend MacBoon soon pulled the door open wide.

"Ah, it's nice to have a visit. Please come in. Get out of the rain," said Cameron.

Harry scowled as he brushed past him. "It's not exactly a social call, Cameron." He flopped himself into one of the two overstuffed easy chairs. Cameron took the recliner, while the others found various seats.

"Not a good mood, Harry, and yet it sounds more worried than angry."

Neville explained. "He's here for detention, Reverend. Well, it was called that, but the intention was more of a cooling-off period and counseling session. The Death Eaters caught his owl and cut its leg off. They sent it along back to Harry to enrage and weaken him. He was doing okay dealing with it and restored the leg with a magical one. Then Draco Malfoy just couldn't resist taunting him …"

"His father might even have put him up to it," interrupted Ron.

"True," agreed Neville. "So when Malfoy shot his mouth off, Harry popped his cork, conjured a thunderstorm, and hexed him."

"Nothing permanently damaging, I hope?" asked Cameron.

Ron grinned and laughed nervously. "Naw, Draco got what he needed - Harry hit him with a Cheering Charm."

Ginny scowled. "Ron, it's not funny. Malfoy nearly died. He had trouble even breathing, Reverend; the charm was that strong."

Cameron nodded. "Still, it's not as if he cast an Unforgivable Curse or something calculated to harm. So Harry, I was right then. You are more worried than angry," said Cameron.

"My friends got me over the worst of the anger. So, yeah, I'm worried about Hedwig and frustrated. I felt Voldemort fueling my anger, trying to push me over the edge. Even though I've made it a habit to push my emotions the opposite of how he pushes me, this was nearly too much. The thunderstorm was a way for me to let out rage safely, but that would not have been enough. These guys, and Hermione, pulled me back. If there's any anger now, it's that I can't check on Hedwig because I'm here for detention. Hmm – no, it's not anger, not any more, that's gone. It's just frustration."

"Of course, anger over such a heinous act is understandable."

"Understandable, but not forgivable for me – I can't afford to lose control."

"Nothing is unforgivable, Harry. You found a reasonable way to vent it, except hexing someone. Anger is on occasion unavoidable, but needs to be expressed nondestructively. We'll just have to work even harder."

Ron gave Harry a nudge. "I've got to say, I've never seen a piece of magic like that storm before, mate. If I hadn't been so freaked by it, I really would have enjoyed it."

Ginny frowned. "Ron, it was big magic alright, but he didn't learn that here. I find it very disturbing whenever Harry does magic he's learned from Voldemort."

"Is this concern because of your particular experiences, Miss Weasley?"

"I'm sure that's part of it, Reverend. I know what can happen when he gets inside your head."

"I can understand your concern, but for the time being Harry has no choice but to have Voldemort's presence with him. Generally, evil resides not in the magic, but in the heart of the magician performing it. When Harry uses it to prevent an eruption of anger, then it is well-used. I assume no one was hurt by your storm, Harry?"

"Mmm," said Harry, roused from his brooding, "Oh, sorry, no, I even cleaned up the rain. Snape would have Ginny mopping it with a dishrag if I had left it."

"Hey there, you, I've had a few nights without detention," said Ginny in mock anger.

Ron scoffed. "Hah! Very few. You'll be turning in your Prefect's Badge before long."

Harry scowled. "You people can act blasé if you want, but I'm here on detention instead of seeing to Hedwig."

"Well, let's find out about her," said Cameron. "Who has her?"

"Hagrid," said Ron. "He started tending to her before she was off the dining table."

"Right. Harry, you know she's well cared for – no one loves animals more than Hagrid."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Cameron answered it and let in the Creevey brothers.

"Just got back from Hagrid's place. Things looked pretty dicey when we left. She was out cold and Hagrid was giving her more blood restorative. Dumbledore himself showed up and sent us back here," said Denis.

Harry jumped up and headed for the door. Cameron caught him by the arm.

"Harry, you know she's in the best hands possible, and if there's anything that needs doing that Hagrid can't do, the headmaster can. You must not act impulsively."

Harry looked sadly toward Cameron. "She's been with me through everything. She's stayed loyal even when I haven't treated her so well."

"Pets are like that."

"I feel like it's my fault. She was targeted because she's my owl. They wanted to tear me down by hurting the ones I love. Everybody I love is targeted just because I care about them." Harry covered his eyes with one hand and sniffed. "Everybody I care about would be so much safer if I was just gone."

"Harry, you can't go blaming yourself," said Cameron. "For whatever strange reason, you've been dealt a tough hand, but you've got to play it out. None of this is your fault."

Neville stood up and faced Harry. "He's right, Harry. None of us chose war – it's been forced on us. And if not for you, where would any of us be in responding to it. This school didn't make us ready to stand up to Death Eaters – you did. Don't you even think about taking that from us. We still need you."

"Neville's right, Harry," said Ron. "And we don't just need you as a coach. You're a heck of a friend, too."

Then Ginny took a turn. "Harry, the bad things happen around you because you stand in the way of bad people doing what they want. Don't be a fool about this – you blaming yourself for the danger is like an umbrella blaming itself for the rain."

Harry looked at her a few seconds, considering the analogy. Then he started to put his arms out to hug her and hesitated. She put her arms around him and hugged; Harry then relaxed and hugged her back.

"You git," she said softly. "You should know you're always welcome to a hug – especially from me."

"Besides, Harry," said Colin, "things'd be pretty dull without the action you stir up."

"Imp!" said Harry, smiling weakly. "I could do with some boredom."

"I understand, Harry. Say, that was an awesome bit of work with the replacement leg: looks like it's fully functional and wicked strong and sharp. She'll be able to hunt wild boar with that. Where'd you learn that one?"

"I saw something like that the night in the graveyard when Voldemort got his body back. I told all about it in that interview. Peter Pettigrew had cut his hand off and Voldemort conjured a silver one. I had to modify the spell for an owl leg and to make it light enough for flight."

"There ya go, Ginny," said Ron, "another example of Harry using You-Know-Who's magic for good."

"Ron, are you still afraid to say Voldemort?" asked Neville.

"Let's just leave it at 'old habits die hard,' okay?" said Ron.

The Creeveys both started clucking like chickens and everyone laughed as Ron made a grab at them.

"Well enough," said Cameron. "Now it's my detention to administer, so I'll have to chase the rest of you away. I need time to speak privately with Harry."

After they left, Cameron turned to Harry. "You have good friends."

"The best," said Harry.

"You would hurt them immensely if you died."

"They could be hurt much worse if I live."

"There's got to be another way. Let's talk about Hedwig and prayer. I think that may help you get closer to finding that other way."


	36. Healing

Chapter 36 Healing

Harry looked up at Cameron. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about prayer, really."

Cameron smiled. "Yes, you told me that before. Prayer is really just talking to God."

"I'm afraid I don't have much idea who or what God is either," said Harry. "I never really was taught anything. I've picked up vague notions and random ideas, but …"

"That is too true for many people today. Unfortunately the idea of God has been misused by too many people, from those who invoke the name of God to justify their own hatreds, even murderousness, to those who try to tell you to live the way they want you to because 'God wants it', to those who will use anything to sell toilet paper. I'm even reluctant to describe God as the Creator of the universe, because then you get into a great hassle with people who say the various creation stories of the Old Testament must be literally true, even where they are mutually inconsistent. The odd thing about that is that most of the people who say that the Creation stories cannot be parables because God wouldn't tell untrue stories will also say that Jesus is God in human form and they will acknowledge that he told many parables."

"I'm not following that, Cameron," said Harry.

"The point is they say God can tell instructive allegorical stories in one situation but not in others. There's no rhyme or reason to their insistence that way, but there you have it."

"So what is God?" asked Harry.

"God is everything, Harry. At least that's how I have come to understand him. All the matter and forces that make up the entire universe, all that is seen and unseen, all that exists, all of it is the body of God."

"Just something inanimate? Then how would you talk to … It?"

"Well, that's where the atheists and the believers separate, Harry. I believe that unifying it all is a spirit: just as your body has a soul, so does the universe, and that soul is the person – not a human, but a being – that we think of as God. The entire world is occupied with his essence and we can talk to him – or her if you prefer to think of God that way – by speaking deeply from our hearts, whether silently or aloud does not matter, for God knows us from the depth of our being, since we ourselves are part of the universe which comprises God."

"That's a bit overwhelming. So what's he like?"

"God's essence is love."

"There's a lot of the world that does not seem very loving."

"That's true. Much of that is just the appearance, because we don't see the 'big picture' that he does."

"A lot of this corner of the universe can be downright nasty."

"That's true. And I assume you mean not just the bloody struggle for life of the animal world, but the hatefulness of supposedly intelligent beings."

"Yeah. Animals are just trying to survive the way they are equipped. But how can a loving God allow my parents and Sirius and Marietta to be killed, and all the other victims of war, and all the victims of crimes, and all the people who have been hurt. And Mrs. McMillan having her soul sucked out. And," Harry's voice cracked, "Hedwig losing her leg?"

"There are no easy answers to that, Harry. The natural, unchosen events are easier – as natural beings with bodies, we are subject to the flaws of a physical biological system. Then there's the evil which beings choose to do. Basically, intelligent beings are born with free will. We are shaped by our history and experiences, and we are presented with choices and can allow ourselves to be seduced by easy advantage or carelessness or laziness. We often are deluded about things. Consider Sirius. He was brought up with a very narrow vision: to be a prince of the purebloods. He was proud and arrogant and preening. He behaved terribly until his awareness was awakened. Your father was similar. Oh, he started out nice enough – the Potters never bought into that pureblood nonsense. But James was such a talented athlete and there are plenty of people who would do anything and forgive anything for a good athlete. He was seduced by the special privilege of being the star. He strutted around and bullied others as well. He seemed to wake up in his sixth year here as well. Oftentimes we see only a small part of things, and in trying to deal with the part we see, we develop biases and hatreds and misconceptions that cause us to be hateful toward others. Sometimes also people are sick inside and this causes them to behave hatefully."

"I think I sort of understand," said Harry.

Cameron smiled. "Well if you ever understand it completely, come explain it to me. I still am working hard at comprehending God's ideas."

"So how do I pray?"

"Come on," said Cameron, pulling on a mackintosh and hat against the rain which had started up again, and handing Harry a large umbrella. "Let's walk down to Hagrid's and I'll tell you as we go."

They headed out the door and Cameron continued, "As I said before, prayer is simply talking to God. Because he is everywhere and everything, we can speak silently or aloud. Some religions recommend or even demand particular physical positions for prayer. For instance, Muslims get on their knees and bow with their heads down to the floor facing towards Mecca – that's a small city in Arabia. Many Christian denominations, particularly Roman Catholics, do much of their praying while kneeling, usually with their knees on a cushion called a kneeler and resting their arms against a prayer rail, or the back of a pew, or something like that. Jews usually wear prayer shawls. Eastern religions, such as Buddhism and Hinduism have elaborate exercises for getting focused for meditation and prayer. These physical positions are intended to help the person focus his attention on the conversation with God."

"Many groups also have specific words that people are expected to say at certain times, or a regular litany that they might say in connection with their prayers. For instance most Christians will end a prayer with 'In Christ's Name we pray, Amen' or something of similar meaning, because Jesus is said to have told His followers that whatever they asked in His Name would be done. Sometimes a regular text is used for group prayer. The most common version is what is called the Lord's Prayer., which the gospels say Jesus taught his disciples We Presbyterians say it this way: 'Our Father Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors, and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever, amen.' That last line is not really part of the prayer that Jesus gave, but it was added long ago to the usual recitation."

"Hm. It's simple and short, but covers everything, doesn't it? I sort of remember it being said at the service I went to with Ernie McMillan, but I couldn't understand the words as everyone recited; they kind of mumbled it together. What kind of 'debts' is that referring to?"

"Ahh, spiritual or moral debts – ways in which we have harmed people. Roman Catholics and a few others say 'trespasses' and 'those who have trespassed against us' to avoid any such misunderstanding. I've never been convinced it makes the matter any clearer. Now there's another type of prayer, and I happen to think it's the most special. It's where you pour out your heart's longing and pain and hopes to God, to share whatever it is that is deepest inside you. Sometimes it's as simple as saying 'Oh, God, help me;' if it's from the heart, it will be understood. Because God's essence is love, he wants to see you happy and wants to help you become happy."

"So – what, does he just give stuff, like Father Christmas?"

"Oh, no, Harry, I think you know children who got everything they wanted as they grew up – they didn't become happy, did they?"

Harry thought of Dudley and his piles of presents every birthday and Christmas, how Dudley would whine and cry when the wrappings had all been torn off, and yet would end up breaking almost everything unless it got forgotten in a closet.

"No, Cameron, quite the opposite. Until things stopped meaning so much, kids like that were miserable."

"Exactly! God wants us to be happy, but spoiled people are not happy. So often he says no, but that's okay. He knows what we need. Many times he helps us, most often by helping us find a way and the strength to take care of things ourselves. After all, they say 'God helps those who help themselves.' And we value things better when we have achieved them through our own efforts. Prayer can help us realize how we can use our God-given talents to achieve what we want."

"Can he show me how to protect my friends from Voldemort?"

"Yes, Harry, it could happen. We don't control God, but I cannot help but think that your survival against so many dangers over the years has had a bit of divine help. The problem is that you may not understand it when the answer is given to you. Many times people have answers right in front of them and they pass them by."

"Can he help Hedwig?" asked Harry as they reached Hagrid's door.

"That's what we're here to see. We're not just here to check on Hedwig. I'd like for you to talk to God about her. You can do it silently if you don't want the rest of us to hear."

Cameron knocked on the door, and Hagrid answered it, looking grave.

"Come in, Reverend, Harry," said Hagrid. "Harry, I'm afraid it's not looking too good. She lost a lot of blood, and it seems to have done its damage before we could get restorer into her."

Harry dropped the umbrella and ran to the basket Hagrid had Hedwig in. Dumbledore was seated next to it, looking sadly at her. She was lying inert in the basket. Harry dropped to his knees beside the basket and leaned over it. His tears streamed down his face and he cared not a whit if these men saw him crying like that.

Reverend MacBoon let him be a few minutes and then placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Try prayer, Harry. Even if you're not sure what to say, talk to God about it and he'll understand."

Harry wasn't sure what to say really, so he just stared at Hedwig and put his thoughts into words silently. He wanted help for her. He thought about how much he loved Hedwig and what a wonderful friend and helper she had been. He thought about how wrong it was that she should be hurt because people were trying to get to him. He thought how much he would rather bear the injury than let her suffer. As he stared he saw a green pallor around her and thought that must be her dying; it seemed odd to him that even her feathers and the straw around her would be tinged. He got a severe headache and felt sick to his stomach from the grief he felt. It just wasn't right; she was just his friend; he should be the one attacked, not her! He raged inside.

After several minutes Hedwig shifted her head and hooted quietly, more of a coo actually. Hagrid jumped. He checked her neck for a pulse.

"She's gotten stronger," he said in quiet excitement and gave her another dropperful of blood restorer. "Her eyes are clearer, too."

Harry looked up at Hagrid with water-rimmed eyes. "Then there's hope?"

"Well, she's looking better."

"Can I stay here beside her?"

Hagrid looked at Dumbledore and Cameron.

"Who would have the heart to say no?" said Cameron.

"Hagrid, if you don't mind, I think some tea is in order," said Dumbledore, picking up a large kettle and tapping it with his wand, making steam erupt.

"O' course, Professor," said Hagrid, getting down four mugs, one his own bucket-sized mug, as well as his oversized teapot and tin of tea.

Cameron and Dumbledore talked quietly between themselves as the tea steeped in the pot. Once the tea was poured, Hagrid took a mug to Harry and sat next to him. Dumbledore stood just behind Harry and smiled behind the veil of steam rising from his mug. Cameron sat at the table and watched the ancient old man, the half-giant and the young man in robes bent over the basket on the side table with the faint green glow around it like it was some odd Nativity pageant.

Harry stayed in Hagrid's cabin by Hedwig's side through the night. Dumbledore had stayed for some time after the crisis had seemed to pass and then left. Cameron fell asleep at the table, but woke up at 2 a.m., squeezed Harry's shoulder and went back to the rectory. Hagrid had already laid down to rest but made Harry promise to rouse him – even if it meant a bucket of cold water – if Hedwig showed any signs of distress. Only Harry stayed up through the night, watching for signs good or bad, and continuing to try to pray, however uncertain he was as to what was right to say. Occasionally Hedwig stirred, but then she would fluff her feathers and stretch her talons and go back to sleep. She seemed comfortable, but Harry knew she must still be very weak to sleep without trying to perch.

Harry's first class on Friday was Care of Magical Creatures. His friends brought out toast and sausages, not being too sure how edible Hagrid's breakfast fare might be. There was, of course, no doubt what the morning's lessons would be – care of messenger owls. Ron and Neville scouted about the cabin, stunning a few voles and shrews in hopes Hedwig would be up to a meal.

When they came in, Neville said to Hagrid, "You may have another patient, Hagrid; one of your cockerels is acting right sluggish."

"Put them creatures in the cage there and show me which one," Hagrid said excitedly.

Neville handed the vermin in his hands to Ron and headed out with Hagrid. When Hagrid saw the rooster, he whooped.

"Just laid an egg, he did. I've never gotten to one this fresh!"

Hagrid scooped up the egg from the discomfited cockerel and brought it into the cabin. As he pulled down the nesting box and placed the egg in the bed of straw, he explained.

"That's how a rooster'll act when it lays an egg. All bent out of shape."

Ron asked, "You mean embarrassed, 'cause it's a hen thing to do?"

"Naw, they don't know embarrassment. That's a person's thing, although I've known a few intelligent creatures that seemed to have a bit of a sense of it. No, I mean literally bent out of shape. Birds only have one opening down there and a rooster don't normally push anything the size of an egg through it. A hen's used to it – she starts laying eggs at a few months old and does it at least once most days fer the rest of her life. The rooster's droppings are about the width of a quill, so when he has to push out something the width of your – uh, well, you know, the size of a chicken egg – he literally gets bent out of shape. Makes him real sullen."

"So getting to the egg immediately is important?" asked Hermione.

"I b'lieve so, Hermione, although hatching basilisks is not something in the books. The other eggs I had happened on later – nothing came of 'em." As he said this, he looked around, found Trevor the toad, and placed it on the warmed nesting box. Trevor croaked at Neville and then Hagrid and settled into place.

"Better get him a few grasshoppers, Neville. That'll make him more content," said Hagrid. "We need him to stay put if we're going to hatch a basilisk."

Harry waited impatiently as Neville collected some grasshoppers and other larger insects. Then as Trevor was being given one, he interrupted.

"Hagrid, I know that's important, but if it's taken care of, can we see to Hedwig now?"

"O'course, Harry, she's the lesson for the day after all."

Hagrid proceeded to examine her and show them all how to look for the health signs of messenger owls – pulse points, wing strength, talons, neck mobility, eye responsiveness. They worked together on trimming the feathers which had been damaged.

Halfway through the class, Hedwig began to flap her wings and try to sit up. Hagrid had brought in a log from his woodpile that had a branch sticking out from it and set it upright to mimic a forest perch. He gently lifted her up and tried placing her on the branch. She grasped the branch with her talons. She began to crush the 2-inch-thick branch with her magical talon until she adjusted her grip to compensate. She was wobbly and leaned against the log's bark.

"Is she okay?" asked Harry. "Should she be doing that?"

"It's fine. She's still very weak. She's just stabilizing herself. I've seen young-uns do that against tree trunks or their parents when they're learning to fly and to perch on their own. Let's try feeding her some of the creatures ya got there. Nothing shows health like an appetite."

They had to tear the rodents apart for Hedwig, since she lost her balance when she tried to do it for herself. They were like little children taking turns to offer her bloody chunks of meat. She only ate a few before she stretched her neck all the way around in each direction before resting her head on her shoulders and dropping off to sleep.

"You've got one lucky bird there, Harry," said Hagrid, "she had the one owner who could restore her leg and stop the blood loss."

"And she had the help of the man who loves creatures more than any other," said Harry admiringly.

"But Hagrid, isn't an owl rather mild a creature for you – I thought your strength was 'interestin' creatures'?" asked Ron.

"You think I like only dangerous things? It's all a matter of scale. To one of them rodents, that owl is as scary as an enraged hippogriff is to you. Sure I like a bit of zest to creatures, but a good raptor's plenty interestin', believe you me. They're equipped for the hunt and make no mistake about it."

Hagrid insisted that Harry return to the castle for lunch and his afternoon double Transfiguration class. When he came into the class, Professor McGonagall cocked one eyebrow and asked, "Potter, what are you doing here?

Harry looked around dully.

"Am I in the wrong class? Isn't this seventh year Transfiguration?"

"Yes, of course it is," she said sharply, "but what do you think I'm supposed to teach you anyway? I keep looking for challenges, but after last night's display, I certainly don't know what I can assign you. Besides, you look exhausted: when did you last sleep?"

"Erm," said Harry, as he fought to keep his eyes open and uncrossed, "it was, erm..."

Hermione spoke up for him. "Not since he woke up yesterday morning for the 4:30 run."

"That's it! Potter, your assignment for this class is to get to your dorm and sleep. And no fiddling around, got that?"

"Yes, Professor, if you're sure," he mumbled.

"Oh, I'm certain all right. Miss Granger, he's going to need help. The first half hour will all be review for you. Help him up there, if you will."

"Yes, Maam," she replied, "Come along, Harry. I'll take you to bed."

All the students within earshot, started saying "Ooooh" at that choice of words.

Hermione stamped her foot and said, "Oh, you know what I meant!"

"Sure, Hermione," laughed Dean, "but it's funnier our way."


	37. Hogsmeade Scheming

Chapter 37 Hogsmeade Scheming

With Hedwig doing better, Harry returned to his routines. That brought him out to see Hedwig every day anyway, as he continued wizard training with Hagrid. Hagrid was also attending the Monday evening patronus sessions. Those were proceeding well and by mid-November another dozen students had tested with the lethifold and plenty more seemed close to having a fully corporeal patronus. Hagrid had gotten a later start than most, but he was producing a decent silvery mist that was trying to take a form.

At that point also, it was decided to disband the training section of the DA: there were only a few students who couldn't do all the basic sparring spells, and Harry would take a few minutes with each of them at the meetings, but mostly they were able to participate with the platoons. A few wanted to go to the squadrons – those who had been flying at their homes – but it was felt they needed to master at least the basic spells with their feet on the ground before trying to do them while managing a broom.

Despite all the progress, fighting amongst the students was even worse. Students would come in from the squadrons with physical injuries Harry rarely even saw in quidditch. Both the squadrons and the platoons had vicious fights breaking out between and among the teams. It almost never happened with Harry in the immediate vicinity, as if his authority as coach kept them in line. But as soon as he was a fair distance away, the heated voices would rise and he would start to see spells used that had nothing to do with training.

Two weeks after Halloween, at the beginning of the Care of Magical Creatures class, Hagrid announced it was time for Hedwig to start flying again. She had been perching and flapping her wings in place, but with her large wingspan couldn't really fly in Hagrid's cabin.

Harry put out his arm for her to perch on. "Ow, careful there, girl. That new talon's very strong and sharp." She eased off her grip a bit. She hooted excitedly as Harry brought her to the door. As soon as she was far enough out the door to fully spread her wings out, she launched herself from Harry's arm into the air. The class spent a full twenty minutes just talking about messenger owls and watching Hedwig get the feel of flight again and trying out her new talon for hunting. After a few catches, she was tired and brought a couple of voles back to Hagrid's cabin to eat in peace. Then she napped as they went on with their lesson.

The next Wednesday evening, Harry, Ron and Hermione were working on a Potions essay in the Gryffindor common room when Ginny got back from detention. She looked at their NEWT-level books and groaned.

"I don't know how I can get caught up on all my work," she moaned.

"Erm, fewer detentions?" said Ron.

"I'm trying!" she cried. "It's like I'm marked."

"You know that could be," said Harry. "Once you get a reputation as someone who steps over the line easily, people start watching you and gigging you for things that other people get away with."

"Oh, great!" said Ginny. "Well, if I've got to act like little Miss Priss over here, I'd rather have detention!"

"Hey, Ginny, that's not fair," objected Ron angrily, "just because she doesn't have a poisonous tongue like SOME people doesn't make her a goody-two-shoes!"

"Well, I …" Ginny began to reply with uncharacteristic spite.

"Enough!" said Hermione, glancing over at Harry and noticing his evident discomfort at the tension. "Ginny, you need a break. It's a Hogsmeade weekend. Do you have plans?"

"No, it's been all training and studies and detention for me. I've got no social life," replied Ginny.

"Well, that's it, then. You're coming with us," said Hermione.

"Hermione!" said Ron. "I thought we were ..., I mean ..."

"You thought what, Ron? You wouldn't leave your dear sister to moulder in her dorm, would you?"

"Well, actually …" he began, then seeing the set to Hermione's jaw, he relented. "No, of course not. We'd be happy to have her come along," he said unenthusiastically. Then he brightened up. "In fact, Harry said he was going to come along, too."

Harry looked up from his essay, shocked. He hadn't gone on a Hogsmeade weekend in a year. The last time he had, he was so jumpy, Hermione had spent half her time unhexing people who got within a hundred feet of Harry.

"Are you, Harry?" said Hermione joyously. "That's wonderful. You need to get out of the castle as much as anyone!"

"Well, I suppose, but …"

"Oh, and think of this, Harry, most of the people in the village will not be wearing sunglasses," added Ginny.

"Hmm, you sure know how to tempt a guy," said Harry thoughtfully.

Ginny smiled impishly. "Well, yes, I do, but that has nothing to do with this."

Ron twisted his head her way, arching an eyebrow visibly over the sunglasses. Harry missed the comment and continued to look thoughtful.

"I was going to speak with Dumbledore tonight anyway. There's been a change in Voldemort's plans. I'll ask him about Hogsmeade, too."

"Well, hey, mate, let's go up and call now," said Ron. "Unless it's stuff I shouldn't hear."

"No, you can hear it. I'm at a good stopping point on this. If you're ready, let's go."

Harry and Ron started packing their supplies.

"Are either of you wanting to listen in, too?" asked Harry to the girls.

"Oh, no," said Hermione, "I'm only on my fifth parchment."

"It's a three-parchment assignment," said Ron.

"Oh, I don't see how you could possibly even cover the various types of filters in three!"

"I try to write large," he answered sarcastically.

Ginny laughed at Ron's exasperation, and then said, "I'll have to pass, too. I haven't even started my essays for this week. Besides," she added with a smile, "Ronnie gets all upset when I'm in the boys' dorm rooms."

"Ginny, it's a different matter when I'm there, too," said Ron.

"Oh, like you could fight off Harry if he tried to take advantage of me!"

"It's probably Harry that needs the protection!" said Ron.

Ginny reached for her wand, and Ron grabbed his book bag with one hand and Harry with the other. "Come on, Harry, gotta go!"

Harry and Ron heard Ginny and Hermione laughing all the way until they reached the 7th year boys' room. Harry went to his trunk to get the mirror, throwing another stack of t-shirts on top of his Sneakoscope, which never seemed to stop whirring and whistling around Hogwarts.

"Harry, you've got to help me out. I had plans to make this a special day for Hermione and me," said Ron.

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, with a smirk. "How special?"

"Hey, this is our friend Hermione we're talking about."

"So! She'll decide how far things'll really go. So what were you planning?"

"You know, a real nice – private - time. I've reserved a table at Madame Puddifoot's, it should be cold enough so I was going to take her ice skating after that, and I've got a private booth at The Three Broomsticks reserved for dinner – you know, nice! I can't have my kid sister tagging along."

"Sounds real special – she'll like that you took the effort to plan. So you want to have me along, too. Aww, that's sweet."

"No, I want you to take Ginny someplace else."

"Wouldn't that seem like I was making a date of it? She's been friendly enough lately, but I still think she's not interested in being a couple."

"I think she's over that now. You never know until you try."

"Yeah, but if you're wrong it'll backfire and she'll stick to Hermione like glue. I don't mind helping you out, but we need a way to suggest something to her that won't seem so much like a date. And no planning will matter if Dumbledore says no."

"Oh, Harry, what happened to the devil-may-care boy who sneaked out to Hogsmeade these many years ago," said Ron, sounding very much like Fred or George.

"He learned what the stakes really were. Don't give me a hard time for being responsible, alright."

"Yeah, sure. Maybe we'll get a chance to be aimless idlers for awhile once you off Voldemort," said Ron.

"You say that so casually. Perhaps you'd like to have first crack at him."

"No, thanks. You know I'll fight anyone I need to, but I'll skip that one if I have the choice."

"So would I. Must be nice to have such choices," grumbled Harry. He held up the mirror and called for Professor Dumbledore.

Soon the familiar face of the headmaster appeared. "Hello, Harry. Your voice doesn't sound too urgent, so there must not be an attack. Is there something you need to discuss?"

"Hello, Professor. Yes, there are two things. The important thing is that there's been a shift in strategy. They are no longer going to try to upset me by these attacks. A few of the Death Eaters are going to coordinate attacks around Great Britain to keep people disarrayed and to tie up the aurors and auxiliaries. But Voldemort is not going to be involved in the choices of targets or the timing. It'll be a campaign of terror pure and simple. The bigger part is this: he is also laying preparations for a possible attack on Hogwarts."

"What!" interrupted Ron.

"I'm sure you don't say that lightly, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"No, there's nothing funny about it. The giants have thrown in with Voldemort and he's preparing to have them moved back across to England - it will be a slow process. He's got most of his Death Eaters fanned out all over the world gathering as many followers and mercenaries as they can recruit."

"Do you have any idea what has sparked this change of strategy?"

"Yes, sir. Two things: the aurors and auxiliaries were responding too effectively: they can no longer afford the attrition. And the squabbling amongst the students has him thinking that he should attack sooner, rather than let all the students I have trained join the rest of the wizarding world. He sees the tide turning against him if you were to ask me to stay here to keep training classes of the DA, producing excellent fighters who are brave and loyal. He believes he has to wipe us out now and that he can," then Harry got a particularly grim tone, "especially while we cannot get along."

"That has you concerned as well, Harry?"

"Yes, Professor, it does very much. Everyone is coming along so well, and with me they are courageous and dedicated and cooperative. But everywhere I turn I find people fighting and squabbling and even hurting each other. At the rate things are going, if he does attack, we will only be at half strength. I know he'll have several hundred giants and many more wizards. In a few months that could be a lot more, depending on the recruitment. Even if we have most of the students healthy, we'll have under a thousand truly qualified fighters, and we won't be effective at defending ourselves if we can't cooperate."

"I understand your concern, Harry. Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Do you see the problem as that bad?"

"Well, I reckon there's been a bit of high-spiritedness. There've been a few injuries as people got carried away. I think it's just nerves over the war," said Ron.

"Ron!" exclaimed Harry. "You know it's a lot more than that! The squadrons have sent no less than ten people to the Hospital Wing every training night this month, and most of those are hexes, not physical injuries. I don't know the details of your training, but it sure doesn't involve the hexes I've been seeing!"

"Yeah, well, Harry, training is intense and I drive them pretty hard. They get pretty emotional. They also are feeling pretty powerful, so they don't take any guff from anyone, even each other."

"Yeah, well all that swaggering's going to get them killed if they don't rein it in!"

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat pointedly to interrupt the argument. Both boys jumped.

"Please, Professor Dumbledore, you must remember Umbridge doing that to interrupt people. For goodness' sake, don't do that!" said Harry plaintively.

Dumbledore gave a small smile. "Still haunted, Harry? Just take a deep breath and relax. Now, Harry, I think it's time you took a few minutes from the next DA meeting to explain to everyone just how important keeping their tempers and cooperating is. Do you have any sense of the timetable for any attack?"

"Yes, sir. He couldn't assemble all the forces he plans to use until near the end of the school year, but he wants to get it done before we leave. He likens it to eradicating a nest of vermin."

"Well, we've been preparing and we have at least five months more it seems. Now you said there was something else?"

"Oh, yes. Ron wants me to go to Hogsmeade this weekend so that I can get Ginny away from Hermione and him. I told him I'd have to check with you about whether it was safe and advisable."

"Well, Hogsmeade has been engaging in community patrols and has been one of the safest wizarding places in the land, after only Diagon Alley and Hogwarts. And with Voldemort's change in strategy, it's less likely you will need to call in attack warnings. Besides, I have a task that I would like you to perform for me, Harry. And if you get Miss Weasley to assist you in it, I am sure that Mr. Weasley would be most appreciative."

"Well, okay, what is it?"

"I'm sure you remember the cave that you visited Sirius in three years ago. There are quite a number of such caves in the hills around Hogsmeade. I have need to select one for a particular purpose. I do not want to say what the purpose is so I cannot ask you to make the selection, but I would like you to take a map and some parchment and examine them all, taking notes on their size, shape, ceiling height, accessibility, the surrounding vegetation, etcetera. There are about fifteen of them which may be suitable for my needs. Sirius has already given me the information I need on the one he used. I asked him when he came to visit Professor Nigellus one day. That leaves fourteen more."

"That's a lot to cover. Ginny and I may need to split up to do it," said Harry.

"I don't think that's wise, Harry. You're too powerful to attack in the open, but you need someone to cover the cave mouth while you scout out the interior. Besides, while one of you explores, the other can take notes from what the one in the cave says about it. I would feel much more comfortable about the whole situation if you had Miss Weasley with you."

"Harry, it's perfect," said Ron. "She won't refuse to help on a task for Professor Dumbledore."

"Yeah, but with all those caves to check, she's sure to insist you and Hermione help, too."

Professor Dumbledore began to chuckle. "I'm afraid Mr. Weasley would be absolutely of no use in this matter."

"Huh," said Ron, a bit put out. "Why's that, Professor?"

"Particularly at this time of year, these caves are all quite thoroughly infested with spiders."

Ron turned completely pallid. "S-s-s-s-spiders?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Millions of them."

Ron got weak-kneed and began quivering.

"Okay, that takes care of Ron. And I imagine Ginny won't make Hermione go if Ron can't. Thanks Professor," said Harry.

"Thank you, Harry. This mission is very important to me. It will take the better portion of the day, so I'll have Madam Rosmerta prepare a portable lunch for the two of you to pick up before you head out. And how is your owl doing?"

"I suspect you know, but I'll say it anyway. She's back to flying. She was a little shaky at first, and getting used to the different feel of the magic talon, but she's doing very well. She's started catching most of her own food again."

Ron added, "Last night she even was patrolling over the squadrons as we drilled. I reckon she liked the company, and she knows a good number of us."

"You didn't mention that before," said Harry.

"Slipped my mind," replied Ron.

"I am truly pleased," said Professor Dumbledore. "That owl is an excellent friend for you, Harry, and an excellent judge of character."

"I'd be heartbroken if she had died. She's the most precious thing I own."

"Indeed," agreed Dumbledore.

When Ron and Harry came back down to the common room, Harry chose a seat at the table as Ron took up position standing behind Hermione's chair.

"So, Harry, how'd it go?" asked Hermione. "Are you going to be able to come with us?"

"Well, yes and no. I can come into town with you, but then I have to head into the hills to check on caves for Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh, really," she said. "That sounds interesting. That'll be fun."

"Uh-uh!" said Ron strongly.

"Ron, what's wrong?" asked Hermione, turning her head upward to look at him. "You've turned as white as Nick?"

"Spiders," said Harry, "Lots of spiders in the caves."

"Oh, well, Ron, you can wait in town while the three of us check the caves."

Ron leaned over the chair and whispered in her ear.

"Really?" she said aloud.

Then he whispered some more, and she responded in a deeper quieter voice, "Really?"

Then he whispered some more and she giggled and said, "Really, Ron!"

Then to Harry she said, "Well, I'm sure I would only be in the way. You'll make better time without me."

"Hrmf!" said Ginny. "You can count me out, too. I don't need to spend my first day off in months poking around some smelly old caves"

"Ginny, you have to!" said Ron, a bit too forcefully.

"Why do I have to – just because you want to play kissy-face with Hermione? It's Harry's project, not mine."

"Actually," said Ron, smugly, "Dumbledore suggested that you help him out."

"Really?" asked Ginny suspiciously.

Harry spoke up. "Yeah, he reckoned it was a two-person job. One to go into the caves and one to take notes and stand guard."

"And he just thought of me, huh?"

"Well, he asked who I would be with Saturday and suggested you would be the most effective partner for this."

"Oh, great – because my brother's the Amazing Spiderman I get stuck clambering through the rocks in freezing weather."

"Well, Dumbledore's already arranged for a picnic lunch to be waiting for us, and - tell you what, it'll be my treat for dinner and butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks afterwards. Better?"

Ginny shifted her face around to the eager faces around her, then pointed at Hermione. "I'll expect some help getting through these essays as well."

"Of course, Ginny," cooed Hermione. "What are friends for?"

"Good," said Harry, "since that's set, I'm off to bed. Coming, Ron?"

"In a minute," he said, as he began nuzzling Hermione's neck.

Ginny rubbed her knees, stiff from detention, and started to the girls' dorms."Get a room!" she hissed wickedly.


	38. Speaking of War

Chapter 38 - Speaking of War

The next night, Harry addressed the entire DA before drills:

"I am delaying the beginning of practice for a few minutes because of a problem that I have been seeing which may lead to a much bigger problem. All this year, I have noticed that fights have broken out among you: sometimes just arguments, more often extending to fistfights or exchanges of hexes. You are all wearing sunglasses so that I, and through me Voldemort, may not know what defensive plans may be made. But just as easily, he can glean information from the things you say and do, and he watches most closely what you do in unguarded moments, when you are unaware I am around. What he has learned is that we are fractious and divided, that we cannot cooperate and that we are weakened by this. This has caused a recent shift in his strategies. Even now he is massing forces, recruiting dark wizards and opportunists from the world over, as well as bringing in giants. Of course, he already had the dementors on his side. They are being brought for one purpose: to make war on Hogwarts. They are using other forces to keep the Ministry forces occupied.

"I would hope that I would not need to impress on you the magnitude of this problem, but I will share with you what I know about the situation. They are even now in the process of moving the several hundred giants still remaining to Britain. To defeat the giants, each one would have to be attacked with massed firepower, at least ten spells hitting at once. Two years ago I saw Professor Hagrid shrug off repeated stunners from trained aurors: realize that he is only half-giant, and you'll begin to appreciate the magnitude of the task if we have to face them. They have already over 500 wizards and witches enlisted and hope to have at least twice that number by the end of the school year. As for them, there will be a great range in their talents, but you can expect that the ones who volunteered for a battle are skillful and completely ruthless. And finally keep in mind that they will be using dementors as well - hundreds of them. To help deal with that I am adding another night of patronus sessions - every Friday evening starting at 7 p.m.

"This change of strategy has come from two developments. First, the aurors and the auxiliaries have been very effective. The enemy will no longer be giving us warnings of their targets so that they more effectively spread terror without the losses they had been suffering. Even now, the witches and wizards who had not done so previously are being encouraged to gather in the well-protected strongholds such as Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Second, there is the concern Voldemort has about all the skilled and courageous fighters of this school entering the general wizarding population. In this regard I must agree with him. You have been brilliant. You have worked so hard and you have become very strong and able. I have been involved in a number of adventures in my life. I'll not bother to recount them, but I want you to know that nothing has pleased me more or made me more proud than to work with all of you and see the development which has occurred. It has been awesome and humbling.

"But your very talent makes you a critical target for Voldemort. He does _not _want to let you join the rest of the wizarding world, where you would be able to thwart his followers again and again. He did not dare to order an attack on the school so long as we worked together. As the Headmaster told us after Voldemort regained a body, 'We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.' Of late, he has found you divided and therefore weak. You all still work brilliantly when you are focused on training, but then I see you allowing yourselves to fall into discord. I watch these things when I'm not working with you. The fighting, the bitterness, the rancor, the division must stop. If this continues as it has, he will order his forces to attack by the end of the year. Death and destruction on a scale never before seen in the magical world will be the result. We must each find within ourselves the strength of character to look beyond our immediate annoyances and work together. If not I can assure that this fighting within our walls will lead to a very deadly war outside them."

There was silence for several seconds and then Ron stepped forward. "Speaking for the squadrons, Harry, I can assure you that we will do everything we can to stay unified for the greater needs of all."

Ernie McMillan also stepped forward. "And speaking for the real army, we too will put aside any differences."

"REAL army!" shouted Ron. "Your kind just hunkers down in holes – you're not out in the open where the real danger is!"

"Real danger? – Your kind just sneaks in for quick hit-and-runs. You haven't the backbone to hold your ground!"

Ron charged at Ernie, who charged back. "No backbone, eh?" and the two of them commenced tussling on the floor.

Harry hit them both with a spray of ice water. They stopped fighting. The whole room was silent. Harry hung his head and walked out and down the hall.

Harry was halfway down the corridor when Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe caught up with him.

"Harry! Hey, Harry," called Crabbe. "Wait up. We need you."

Harry turned and looked at them.

"Harry, I don't know what's got into those guys - all that fighting is nuts," said Goyle, "but those of us who just started this year sure need you. We're barely doing the disarming and Protego spells. We can do a poor stunner and a few other hexes. It may not sound like much, but it's more than we could do three months ago. All we knew before was some goofy prank spells. We stuck our necks out to join and we need to be able to defend ourselves if things get rough. Everybody there says what a great coach you are and how they would do anything for you."

"Yeah," said Crabbe, "you haven't let anything stop you from helping us – what house someone's in, things that might have gone on before, the friends someone has, …

"...what their fathers have done …" added Goyle.

"Right," continued Crabbe. "None of that stuff. And I really feel like a changed person. The world has turned around for us."

"Absolutely," said Goyle, "and there's one reason – because Harry Potter took the time to work with all of us. I guess tensions have gotten a bit high or something. But we're all really together. Trust us. Come back."

"And even if some people are not really all that much together," said Crabbe, "that's all the more reason that us poor wizards need your help. Don't leave us hanging out there. You don't know what it's like until you've walked a mile in our shoes."

Harry started to laugh. "Well, actually, I have. But that's a long story for another time."

Harry looked from face to face. How could he refuse them? Here were Malfoy's longtime henchmen, the sons of two Death Eaters, begging him to come back to lead the training to defend against Voldemort. He smiled and shook his head.

"Come on," he said, stepping between them as they turned, and reaching up to put an arm around each one's shoulder.

"A poor stunner, eh? Let's see if we can't punch it up some, okay?"


	39. Caving

Chapter 39 Caving

Since Saturday was a Hogsmeade day, Ron had made sure far in advance that he had the quidditch pitch booked for practice between 5:30 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. That way his entire team could make their 4:30 a.m. run, then go straight to the pitch, practice, shower, eat breakfast and still not miss any of the available time in Hogsmeade. He had known that they were to have an early severe cold snap, and that temperatures would be more than twenty degrees below freezing with a stiff wind, but his only response was a chipper "Well then, it's good to get it out of the way early!" He was indeed proving a worthy successor to Oliver Wood as captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team.

Ron's enthusiasm was met with at best stoicism and more generally hostility. Nonetheless, the captain is the captain and the team went through their drills right after their run. However, he noticed that when the chasers made their scoring drives toward the hoops – with him defending – their throws were often not as sharp as they should be in order to get the quaffle around him. If he didn't know his team better, he would have thought the quaffles were instead aimed at him. Charitably he attributed it to fingers being stiff from the cold.

Similarly, the beaters proved as able as ever at keeping the bludgers away from Harry and the chasers, but somehow their swings always drove the bludgers toward the goals Ron was defending. Nonetheless, practice went very smoothly and Ron announced magnanimously that he was going to call practice early – at 7:23. After even rather lengthy hot showers to restore feeling to the limbs, there was enough time for a hearty breakfast before the Hogsmeade departure.

Being somewhat miffed, the rest of the team steered clear of Ron at the breakfast table. Ginny talked conspiratorially of kidnapping him and shutting him in one of the caves with the millions of spiders. Harry laughed along with the rest, but then told them stories of equally miserable practice sessions under Oliver. Somehow reminiscences of quidditch practices so many years ago made him feel like an old man He realized that their new chaser, a second year named Brendan Stephens, had only been 5 years old when Harry first joined the team, and yet Brendan was now fully as tall as Harry and still growing.

By the end of breakfast, Ginny had seemed to let go of any animosity over the harsh practice conditions. Ron and Harry waited in the common room for Hermione and Ginny. They were well bundled for the weather, but clearly Ron had made an effort to look sharp, while Harry had put on layers against the cold with three of his oldest denims, two sweatshirts, his largest Weasley jumper, and a large old coat on the outside for being outdoors and in caves all day.

Hermione and Ginny showed similar disparity in clothing, with Hermione choosing to wear a long, heavy dress, a white coat and a furry muff, while Ginny was in two or three thicknesses of old dungarees (with shabby knees from repeated detentions scrubbing floors for Snape) and an oversized Navy peacoat which appeared to have been a hand-me-down from one of her brothers. Harry thought that while Hermione could have been one of the revelers in The Nutcracker and as such was quite adorable, Ginny in her own way was charming in the well-worn and comfortable clothes she had on.

When they got to Hogsmeade, Harry suggested that he and Ginny should pick up some snacks at Honeydukes to help keep their energy up while they hiked and caved. Ron and Hermione decided to come along for that. After that, Ginny and Harry went on their own way to The Three Broomsticks to pick up the box lunch which was waiting for them. Before Ron and Hermione's lunch at Madame Puddifoot's, they went to a nearby hilly meadow where the sheep farmer who owned it made extra money renting sleds and skis during the winter.

As Harry and Ginny walked over to The Three Broomsticks, they could look between the buildings and see Ron and Hermione climbing the hillside for their first slide. As they climbed, they shoved and laughed and threw snow at each other.

"Only one sled between them, I notice," said Harry.

"I'm sure they're just going to take turns. Ron probably couldn't afford more then one sled."

"He might have told her that, anyway," said Harry grinning.

"Don't think she isn't bright enough to play along with that ploy."

Harry feigned crying like a heartbroken mother. "They grow up so fast. Boo-hoo!"

Ginny put one arm akimbo and wagged a finger at him. "Unlike _some_ people who never seem able to grow up."

"Izzatso!" cried Harry and began chasing her. They both ran somewhat clumsily in their excess clothes and didn't stop until they got to The Three Broomsticks door, where Harry tackled her from behind, both falling to the ground laughing. Just then Madam Rosmerta came out with a rug to shake out.

She shook her head, as Harry and Ginny rolled over onto their backs and Ginny shook the hair from her face.

"Here, what's this? Until you showed your face, I would have thought it was James and Lily Potter back to their old tricks. What is it with you Potter men and redheads?"

Harry blushed crimson.

"Oh, Madam Rosmerta, it's not …, I mean, we're not …, we were just."

Ginny frowned and shook her head. "Oh, shut up, Harry. Like I'd have him, Madam! He can't keep his hair combed and I'd be forever patching him up and nursing him back to health."

Harry arched his eyebrows at her. "Oh, yeah, well what would I need with a girl with six big brothers? Seems like a dangerous combination to me."

"Uh, huh. You two are real convincing."

"Really, Madam," said Ginny. "If we were dating, do you think I'd dress like this? I clearly didn't go to any bother on _his_ account. We're just here to pick up the lunch Professor Dumbledore ordered for us."

That's true, thought Harry. He had not before been able to shake the feeling that this day could be construed as a 'date' in some fashion. He was glad for the time to spend with Ginny, as he had come to like her quite a lot in the private morning training sessions, quidditch practice and the other times they were together. But dating had too many implications and expectations: it was good to not have that uncertainty and uneasiness. It was far more to his liking that they just be good friends exploring the hillsides together. And yet he could not deny that he felt different than he would have if he were exploring the caves with Hermione.

Harry was relieved to find that once he and Ginny were in the area covered by the map, it showed their positions and the direction they should go to get to the next cave on the list. It reminded Harry of the Global Positioning System device on Uncle Vernon's company car, except that the magical map was up to date. As had become quite habitual since the connection with Voldemort had become so open, upon coming on a type of magic or magical object he had not previously done or made before, he searched Voldemort's knowledge for the technique and learned to make a map like this himself. He also triggered memories of Voldemort making his own versions of the Marauders' Map covering Hogwarts along with the Chamber of Secrets, the Ministry of Magic, St. Mungo's, and Azkaban. He filed the information away to tell Dumbledore later.

As they traipsed around the hills, Harry's mind wandered at times to the last time he was in Hogsmeade with a girl – his disastrous date with Cho Chang. He appreciated the fact that Ginny was not afraid to clamber about, be rugged and get dirty. He was spending the day with someone who had become a good friend and valued emotional stabilizer. Both were reddened and chapped by the icy winds, filthy, in grubby clothes and just having a wonderful time talking about everything but love and war.

Between chatting and exploration, Harry found himself wondering why there was always such tension between the sexes, until at the ninth cave when they stopped for lunch and had heated a sheltered boulder to white hot to warm themselves by, Ginny decided to pull off the coat and one of her sweatshirts; as she pulled it over her head, it lifted the shirts beneath it more than halfway up her body, revealing a glimpse of her brassiere and her trim abdomen which set off her womanly hips in the nicely snug jeans which peeked out of the baggier ones. Instantly Harry remembered why girls and boys get nervous around each other. He bit his lip to keep himself from saying something embarrassing. He wondered if she ever felt that tension about him. It was both a disappointment and a relief when she pulled the shirts back down, looking over her shoulder at him and making a joke about getting chills up her spine. They could then go back to being a couple of friends on an outing together.

They got to talking about picnics at The Burrow when Harry had visited and that started Ginny reminiscing about good times she had there. Many of them seemed to revolve around her brothers playing tricks on her or teasing her, but she remembered finding ways to get back at them. They laughed and laughed over the various pranks.

After a bit, Ginny made Harry close his eyes. She didn't say why, but then he heard her sniff and blow her nose. Their noses had been running from the bitter cold and wind, so at first Harry didn't know why she wanted his eyes closed. Then he realized that she needed to wipe the tears from her eyes and had to take her sunglasses off to do so. Harry also found that his eyes could use a wipe. There was so much to 'boring family life' that he had missed out on; he couldn't imagine finding a moment of such times boring.

After they had finished lunch and gotten adequately warmed and rested, they set out again. The progress was a little slower now as the caves were more outlying. The next to last one was devilish to find, and the map was already flashing impatiently, showing they were almost on top of the cave when they pushed aside a large clump of heather and discovered a hole in the ground barely as big as two quaffles side-by-side. The map glowed steadily when they placed it at the entrance, which showed that this was the cave they had been looking for.

"Can you make it in there, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"I'm still pretty skinny. I think I'll make it. I just wonder if Dumbledore could possibly have a use for a cave with such a small opening as this."

"Well, he didn't tell you the reason. If it's to hide something, then this might be the best one," suggested Ginny.

"Yeah, but if so, he's certainly not hiding it from Voldemort, not with me on the errand. Anyway, you can take notes about the opening and lay of the land as I work my way in."

Harry had to shuck off his coat and slide in headfirst on his belly. He held his wands ahead of him both for light and so he wouldn't accidentally break them. He was about halfway in when he had trouble finding a further handhold. He reached down and found an exposed root and braced against that as he pulled his legs in. All of a sudden, his hand slipped on the root and he tumbled and slid down the sloped opening. First he yelled and then he groaned.

"Harry! Harry, are you alright?" screamed Ginny into the cave. She quickly shed her coat and started to slide in She had to slide in on her back to make her way through and when she came to the slope she too tumbled and slid.

"Well, if you'd waited I would've told you not to come," said Harry.

"Eeyuck!" said Ginny disgustedly. "What is this muck I'm covered in?"

"Well, actually you're not quite covered yet," said Harry. Splat! He hit her with a big handful. "There – now you're covered. It's fresh bat guano."

"Bat –what'd you call it, guano? All I know is it smells like sh-"

"Ah-ah," interrupted Harry. "No need to say it, that's exactly what it is."

"And you threw it at me! We'll see about that, Harry Potter!"

Splat! She hit him with a double handful. From then on it was a free-for-all. It hardly mattered – they really couldn't get any dirtier. They scooped and threw and splattered and laughed like toddlers in a mudhole. They giggled and gasped with the sheer absurdity and release of it all. Finally they tired and sat panting.

"What now?" said Ginny.

"Well, we have to get out. Do you have your wand?" asked Harry.

"Um, no."

"Okay, I'll get mine and then get yours. Accio wands!"

Both of Harry's wands flew to his hand and he first shook them off and then wiped them on the cleanest part of his outer shirt he could find. "It's easier to summon my own wands than someone else's when I don't have one. Now I'll get yours. Accio wand!"

Ginny's wand flew to his hand as well. Harry shook it and wiped it on his shirt before handing it to her.

"I could've done that," she said

"I didn't want you to get dirty," he said, grinning.

"Take that, you," she said, heaving one last handful at him. "Okay, so how do we get out?"

"Hmm, there's no magical object in our gear for me to guide off of for apparition, and if I apparated us somewhere else, we might never find that stuff."

Ginny shook her head. "That's no good. I'd hate to report to Dumbledore that we lost all the notes and his map as well."

Harry held his wands up near the slope where the single shaft of sunlight was entering and said "Lumos!" The light from his wands showed that the slope would not be too bad to handle if it was not so slippery. He then quickly heated the moist guano to dry it out and in a few minutes they were edging their way up the slope.

Once up, Ginny said, "Okay, Harry, let's clean each other up and finish."

"Wait, I have an idea," said Harry. "Ron has a private table reserved for dinner at The Three Broomsticks. Don't clean up yet: let's finish up the last cave and drop in on them – just like we are."

"Harry, what's gotten into you? You haven't pranked anyone that I've heard of in a couple of years," said Ginny laughing. "Fred and George will be so proud."

"I don't know. I feel like I'm remembering what we're fighting for."

"To be able to go to dinner covered in guano?"

"Something like that," said Harry, laughing. "For freedom to be ourselves, to not constantly look over our shoulders for someone trying to kill us, to be able to put our guard down at times. I know there'll always be bad people, and a certain amount of care and watchfulness is part of life, but the constant brooding over the impending threat of terrorism and war weighs you down and breaks you down over time. And it's not as if you could just negotiate a compromise with such people – when the only choices they leave you are subjugation or death, you've got to choose their death instead of your own."

"Whoa, Harry! You're getting serious again. I know and agree with what you're saying, and you know I would do absolutely anything to protect my family and those I love, but let's have a bit more fun. How long do we have before Ron's reservation?"

Harry checked his watch. "Just over an hour."

"Okay, that gives us time to scout out the next cave. Say, Harry, you don't usually have a watch on – what kind's that?"

"Oh, yeah, around the castle I don't need it. I don't think it would even work there. It's a muggle electronic digital watch. The character there on the band is what muggles think leprechauns look like. My muggle relatives got the watch for three cereal boxtops and half a pound. They gave it to me last Christmas. It's the best thing they ever gave me."

Then Harry pursed his lips and looked down. "It is not! That was a terrible thing for me to say. It was the best _gift_ they ever gave me, but the best thing they ever gave me was a safe place to live. They hated and feared magic with such a passion that they tried to squash it out of me, in hopes it would never again crop up in my life. They were cruel about it, but for what they thought was a good reason. They knew what happened to my parents, and they had heard about other atrocities in the first war. And still they took me in and participated in the spell that kept me safe. For all the insanity of living there, I was safe. Considering the sort of people that would have liked to have found and hurt me, that was a brave thing to do and a really valuable gift."

"Harry, since you first met Ron, I was always hearing stories about how awful they are," said Ginny. "I would've hexed them myself given the chance. Now you make me want to hug them."

Harry caught himself and grinned. "Well, if you did it as filthy as you are right now, I think they'd prefer the hex. Let's do the last cave, then I'll apparate us right beside Ron and Hermione."

It was a hard climb to get to the last cave and by the time they got there, most of the guano on them had dried and flaked off. Harry reported that parts of that cave as well had fresh guano deposits, so on Ginny's suggestion, after they put the finishing touches on their report and tucked the map away, they refreshed their stench.

"Harry, are you sure you can apparate to the table safely?"

"Yeah, no problem. I know their wands well enough to guide off of them – it's picking a familiar face out in a crowd. They must be right next to each other. They're in the third table in the back wall – you know, one of those in an alcove with curtains. Face me and hold my hands like we're playing London Bridge and we'll arrive standing on the benches between the back bench where they are and the curtains."

"Okay, then, Harry. No splinching me – I'm only up to full arm apparition and I've splinched my hand once. That's enough for me."

Harry got a wicked grin. "Trust me," he said unctuously.

She glared at him. "The first lesson Mum taught me about trusting boys is never trust the ones that say to trust them. IF you expect any kind of a relationship, you'd better not mess things up here!"

"Oh, does that mean you've opened the door?"

"Maybe. Let's get going."

With that she reached out with both hands, Harry grabbed them, lingered holding them an extra couple of seconds, and disapparated.

'Pop-pop," they arrived in front of Ron and Hermione, who quickly pulled out of a cuddle as Hermione gave a small scream.

"Hi!" said Harry. "Just finished – mind if we pop in?"

"Well, actually, we do!" said Ron. Suddenly he clenched his nose. " – oh, Merlin's beard! What is that stench?"

"Oh, a couple of the caves were a bit untidy. We had a little accident," said Ginny.

"A little unti – Ginny, is that bat sh-," said Hermione.

Ginny quickly interrupted. "Guano: the word is guano."

"Not when it's that fresh!" grumbled Hermione. "Couldn't you two have cleaned up?"

"Ah, well, we're famished and heard that you two had a table," said Harry.

"Well, you're NOT welcome," said Ron. "This is a table for two."

"Now, now, Ron," said Hermione. "We've had the day together. We can have them at the table if – SCOURGIFY, SCOURGIFY – there now" she said, smiling smugly and tucking her wand back away, "IF they can be made presentable."

"Hmf," said Ginny, in mock indignation. "Harry, if they don't want us as we were, I don't think I want to hang around with them. Besides, you promised me a dinner, and I don't want to spend it with my brother being grouchy about being interrupted."

Hermione blushed. "Oh you weren't interrupting anything!"

Ginny leaned down to glare at both of them, glasses to glasses, and said quietly, "Well if we didn't, then I am highly disappointed in both of you – this is the closest any of us get to privacy at Hogwarts. Make the most of it."

Then she straightened up. "We'll be on our way then."

Harry jumped down from the bench and out of the booth, offering a hand to help Ginny out. Though she didn't need it, she accepted the courtesy graciously.

"You have to admit," said Harry, "that few people can do a clean-up like Hermione."

"Yes," said Ginny, looking over her shoulder, "no doubt she'll be settling into domestic life in no time."

She ducked the dinner rolls that came whizzing at her.


	40. The Naked Truth

Chapter 40 The Naked Truth

In mid-December, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville hurried out early to the last Care of Magical Creatures class before Christmas Break. They were concerned because Hagrid had not shown up for the DA meeting the evening before, as he usually did. As they approached Hagrid's cabin, they heard Fang whimpering. They knocked on the door, and only heard Fang's cries turn to howling. They tried the door and while the door was unlatched, the handle would not turn and they could not push the door open. Harry apparated into the cabin.

"Oh, no," he said, loudly enough for the others to hear.

"What is it? What's the matter?" called Hermione.

"I'll let you in the back door and you can see for yourselves," said Harry, less urgently.

What they found on coming in was Hagrid with his left hand on the front door knob with his coat on and looking down the shaft of a wand he was holding in his right hand. He also was standing so still that they knew at once that he was petrified.

"Well, I guess the basilisk hatched," said Ron.

"Yeah, he must have been heading out to tell us – but why did he look into the wand?" wondered Neville.

Hermione tapped her cheek as she said, "Hmm, he couldn't have looked at it in the nest box, but at some point he must have put a bit of meat in the feeding slot of the wand to lure it in there. I'll bet that even though the magical sensors said the basilisk was in there, he just couldn't resist trying to verify it himself. Well, first things first."

Hermione placed the cap on the wand so that none of the rest of them would be petrified. She tried to remove the wand from his hand but couldn't without breaking the wand, which would have been disastrous.

"Right, then, that's what we made the depetrifying potion for. I'm glad we made plenty. I'll get it ready and you three prepare Hagrid."

"Erm, okay," said Ron, puzzled. "Hey, Hagrid, open up, you're about to get a potion!"

"That doesn't seem to have done any good," said Harry, bemused.

"Well, of course not," said Hermione, pouring potion into an atomizer. "How could he possibly drink it – he's petrified. He has to be sprayed with it."

"Oh, right-o, I should have guessed," said Ron. "Hey, Hagrid, you're about to get sprayed! That didn't seem to prepare him either."

"Not that kind of preparation," said Hermione, exasperatedly. "I have to spray _him_."

"Hermione," said Neville. "Are you saying we have to remove his … clothes?"

"Well, of course," she said. "His clothes aren't petrified. We have to spray his body."

"Erm, Hermione?" said Harry. "Isn't there some other way?"

"No," said Hermione. "Honestly, you three act like you've never seen a man's body before. Do you never look in the mirror? Do you hide from each other when you take showers or change clothes in the dorm?"

"Well, what about you?" asked Ron, with concern.

"I'm a second-year healer trainee. I've probably seen a quarter of the boys in this school without their clothes," replied Hermione.

Ron nodded sideways toward Harry, arching his eyebrows inquiringly.

"Yes, Harry, too," she said with an impatient sigh, "when he was in Hospital last year for the lethifold accident and later with his crushed leg. It's no big deal. He's my friend. It's like seeing my father when he's changing clothes – no big deal."

"Somehow I wish you weren't quite so emphatic about that, Hermione," said Harry.

"Oh, don't be insecure, Harry! You're handsome enough, but I don't even notice. You're a friend, and of course friends always have a pleasing aspect, but I'm no more titillated at seeing you naked than at seeing Fang."

Ron stroked his chin. "Well maybe the usual Tom, Dick or, well, Harry would be no big deal, but Hagrid's out of the ordinary in a lot of ways."

Hermione smirked. "Feeling inadequate, Ron?" She laughed wickedly and covered her mouth with both hands. "You really shouldn't, you know – if what you're concerned with is so, then it would have no more attraction for a normal girl than when we see Firenze around the castle – we noticed and most of us giggled at first, but it's just an impossible and unappealing notion in point of fact."

"So you're saying size really doesn't matter?" asked Harry.

"Of course it matters – normal is what's good, because I'm a normal-sized woman: extremes in either direction are a problem. If what Ron is suggesting is right, that would probably be a big part of the reason Hagrid's been so lonesome all his life. Meeting Madame Maxime must have opened up a whole world of possibilities in his mind; it must have been devastating when she ran from him. Now let's stop worrying about what's under his clothes and get them off – unless you'd rather we called Madame Pomfrey."

"No, we can and should take care of … Hey wait, Hermione," said Harry. "Did you have anything to do with those pictures of me?"

"Pictures? What pictures?" asked Ron.

Hermione blushed a bit and said, "Well, we need to get on about helping Hagrid. Time is wasting."

Harry peered at her, pretty sure he knew the answer to what he had asked. "It's not a task I ever thought I'd volunteer for, but I'd do anything for Hagrid, so I'll get to it."

The others joined in as well. They had to remove the door knob, both so they could pull his coat and shirt over it after undoing the center seams, and so that Harry could levitate him while Ron and Neville pulled his shoes, socks, pants and underwear off.

"You know," said Neville, "he's liable to feel a bit ill at ease if he wakes up like this. Let's find a bathrobe or something to put on him after the potion is applied."

"I'm all for that on multiple grounds," said Ron.

They looked in Hagrid's wardrobe and found a seven foot long lavender silk dressing gown with a butterfly brocade motif, a red sash, and an attached feather boa collar. That seemed to be the only thing in the nature of a dressing gown they could find.

"Well, it goes with his pink umbrella," said Harry, with a grin, "but I have a feeling that's only been placed here in the past few months."

"Good bet, Harry," said Ron, also grinning.

Hermione spritzed Hagrid all over. It would take about ten minutes for the potion to take effect throughout his body. They placed the bathrobe around him and tied the sash. Then they started making tea while they waited. Hermione had started from his feet, so his head was the last part to depetrify. Knowing that she might need to perform just this procedure, she had asked Madam Pomfrey about it, acting merely curious how her own depetrification had been done five years earlier. This way there would not be the confusion and panic of a mind reawakening to find the body petrified. Even so, when Hagrid woke up he was a bit disoriented.

He had been petrified looking at the end of the fake wand, so that's how he depetrified. Seeing the cap on the wand, he said, "Well, no wonder I haven't seen the little feller, the cap's on." He set down the doorknob and started to reach for the cap.

"STOP!" the four students yelled.

"Hello," he said startled, "what are you three doing here? And – wait, I was headed out the door. And it was dark."

"Hagrid," said Harry, "you looked at the basilisk through the crystal so it petrified you. Let's not do that again."

"Oh. So how long was I petrified?"

"Well," said Hermione, "you taught all of your classes yesterday, so if it was dark when you headed out, you must have been petrified for about 13 to 14 hours."

"Well, no wonder I feel so well-rested," yawned Hagrid as he stretched, then jumped. "What happened to me clothes? What am I doing in this?"

"We had to spray you with the potion – all over. The boys thought you'd prefer to have some sort of covering."

"Well, that's a bit embarrassing, being stood up naked in front of yeh's all like a statue of Cupid in a garden."

"Nothing we haven't all seen before, Hagrid," reassured Ron, "except a lot hairier than most."

"But why'd yeh put this flouncy thing on me?"

They laughed.

"It's the only thing we could find that we could drape around you," said Neville. "Don't you think it's becoming?"

"Not exactly my style, you cheeky pup," said Hagrid, stepping around to the far side of the hearth to put his clothes on. "Harry, you could have summoned yer invisibility cloak."

"I gave that a little thought and figured it would upset you worse to wake up without a body than one in lavender silk. So I take it things have been going well with Madame Maxime."

"I don't know as that's your business, Harry," said Hagrid sullenly.

"Now, Hagrid, we're cheering you on, you know that. I'm only observing that if that bathrobe is not something you're accustomed to wearing, then it must belong to someone else – and who else could wear something that size?"

"Yer just brilliant," grumbled Hagrid. "Oh, well, I can't stay mad at you four, and you did depetrify me. Yeah, Olympe and me have been getting on pretty well. As much as I like you and others here, it's awful nice to be with someone who's a lot closer to my age and has had some of the same challenges in life. Now let's have some of that tea and we'll talk magical creatures. This is a class session after all. Obviously you know what happens when you meet eyes with basilisks through glass or a mirror. And you also know how to depetrify someone if they try looking at basilisks through glass. If you meet eyes with them directly, it's immediate death. And their fangs are intensely poisonous. How long's the poison take to work, Harry?"

"Oh, let's see, when I got bitten, I was feeling myself get pretty weak and numb in less than half a minute. I could barely sit up when Fawkes's tears cured my wound and the venom."

"Well, there's another good thing to know – Phoenix tears are more powerful magic than basilisk venom."

"Just in case you happen to have a phoenix handy when you're playing with a basilisk," said Ron.

"Well, ya never know – it worked for Harry," said Hagrid, holding up the fake wand with the basilisk. "Hmm, I sure would like to see the little feller – Harry's probably the only one who's ever seen one alive."

"No, Voldemort has, too. And please don't get yourself petrified again, Hagrid; I hate hearing him call you an oaf," said Harry.

"An oaf? I haven't heard that name in over fifty years. I'm sure some have thought it or words like it, but only one person ever said it to me. Is that really the term he uses for me? I wouldn't have thought I attracted that much attention from him," asked Hagrid.

"Weren't you told who he is, Hagrid?" asked Hermione.

"You mean he's got some other name? I thought he was just – You-know-who," answered Hagrid.

"Well, tell us," said Neville to Hermione. "I haven't heard the story either."

"He was a student here at Hogwarts, a fifth-year prefect – Slytherin, of course – when Hagrid was a third year. He became Head Boy later. His name's Tom Riddle," said Harry.

"Tom Riddle?" said Hagrid. "He's the one what accused me of lettin' a creature kill Myrtle. But all I had was my acromantula Aragog, and he wasn't big enough to kill yet. Besides, they would have found his poison in her body, or at least the bite marks. There wasn't a mark on her. But they believed Tom because he was such a 'smart boy,' a poor orphan who wouldn't do no wrong. He was a weaselly brown-nose is what he was! 'N' I was a orphan then too, but nobody cut me no slack. 'Cept Professor Dumbledore, o'course. That man's a saint."

"I reckon a lot of people were ready to blame a half-giant from the get-go," said Harry, "although it would be awfully surprising for the heir of Slytherin to be a half-breed. But then he's a half-blood anyway."

"Not that blood matters," said Ron, looking over toward Hermione.

"Thanks, Ron, but I know that no one here cares," said Hermione.

"So what happened to Riddle, Harry, since you know so much?" asked Hagrid.

"He had already conceived the dark lord persona while here. He found the Chamber of Secrets using clues from old notebooks kept by Salazar Slytherin. After he left Hogwarts, he killed all his muggle relatives and went on a quest to become immortal and develop unmatchable power. He came back as Lord Voldemort to begin his plan of purification of what he considers the 'race' of sorcerers. He wanted to start here because he had old allies from school who he knew thought the same way he did about 'purebloodedness."

"And he's not even a pureblood himself?" asked Neville.

"Nope. It freaked out Bellatrix LeStrange when I told her two years ago. But now he's convinced her that I was just lying – after all, I'm just a half-blood, I can't be trusted anyway."

"Half-blood?" said Hermione, "You're not a half-blood: both of your parents were sorcerers."

"But my mother was muggle-born, so to the people who care about purebloodedness, I'm just a half-blood."

"Oh, dear," said Hermione, and began weeping.

"Hermione?" said Ron. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, Ron, I could take the abuse myself. I'm just glad to have the chance to develop my skills and power: the nasty comments just make me more determined to prove myself. But I was hoping that any children I have would be treated like equals in the wizarding world. Now, oh, I just don't know. How could I subject children to such treatment?"

Hagrid patted her back in an attempt to comfort, but which half took her breath away. "Now Hermione, I've never seen you shrink from making a point - and how do you make the point that children of muggle-borns are worth as much as any other child but by having children. Take a page on that from Harry's mother. Lily Evans was a saint, no doubt about it. She was a wonderful powerful witch and there wasn't nothing she wouldn't do to help someone in need, but she warn't afraid to have children. Harry, what's wrong?"

"It's just – a memory of Voldemort's about my mother that your comment triggered. I'm okay. Hermione, I've done alright as a half-blood. Seamus, too. The only ones who ever try to bother us are gits anyway. No one in the DA has said anything since joining."

"Don't the people you respect treat you like any other witch – well, smarter and more powerful than most, but you know what I mean?" asked Ron.

"Yes, mostly. Sometimes I get hints of suspicion."

Harry said, "Are you sure that's why they're suspicious – maybe it's because you're smart or you're friends with me? Sometimes when you look for a particular reaction, you see it even when it's not really there."

"Well, maybe. I was quite hurt when Mrs. Weasley treated me so harshly after Rita Skeeter's articles. I would've thought she would know better. She raised so many fine children, after all."

Ron blushed as Hermione smiled his direction. "She didn't know you well then. You know she thinks the world of you now, don't you?"

"I suppose, but it's always made me uncomfortable." Hermione gave one last sniff and reached under her sunglasses to wipe her eyes. "Enough of that, I'll get over it. So is there a way we can look at the basilisk safely?"

"Well, I had hoped Harry could talk to it in parseltongue," said Hagrid.

"I can talk to it, but I can't be too sure how obedient it would be. We'd have to do a lot of training before I felt comfortable with anyone looking at it. We could perhaps make a device to hold its head safely while we examined the rest."

"Let's give that some thought," said Hagrid. "You know me, I don't want to take no unnecessary risks with innerestin' creatures."

"Right!" they all agreed sarcastically, and even Hagrid had a laugh with them.

"Why is it," asked Harry, "that we all get along so well here, but I find you people getting into arguments and fights all over the place?"

"What, not me, Harry!" said Hagrid.

"No, not you, Hagrid, these three. And it's not just these three – it's the whole school when I'm not around."

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, "you're just exaggerating, just like when you said I was in assuming some things were based on people's reactions to a muggle-born."

"No, he's not, Hermione," said Hagrid. "I seen it too. Harry's right and it's real disquieting. People that I've never seen raising their voices are fighting this year."

"Thank you, Hagrid," said Harry with evident relief. "I feel a little less crazy now. Have you noticed the other thing – it doesn't happen much near me? You know, if it was Voldemort's influence, I would expect it to happen mostly near me. Instead, nobody argues with me, and rarely right near me: disagreements over stuff, but not actual arguments. But then a person I've been talking with will turn around and bite the head off the next person – for what seems to be nothing."

"So there's a little tension. We've been getting up at 4:30 every morning for over a year, we all have studies, we have families at risk, and we're preparing to fight as if it could happen any moment," said Ron. "What else would you expect?"

"It didn't happen last year, and all of those things were true except for the terror campaign. And that should make you work together, not fight. Most of the students here have had a family member saved by the response teams- that should reinforce the spirit of cooperation."

"Absolutely right, Harry!" exclaimed Hagrid. "It's downright eerie, like it's some sort of hex."

"A hex!" exclaimed Harry. "Somebody must have placed a hex on the school. Alright, Granger, you're the know-it-all: what kind of a hex could act like that, causing dissension, except when people are around one particular person?"

"Well, two," said Hagrid. "Nobody fights with me neither."

"I can't imagine why," said Neville sarcastically.

"Oh, yeh can't get away with that, Neville. I'm big and I can shrug off a spell, but all four of yeh are more dangerous than me in a duel but yer getting into arguments all the time. So, Hermione, what could it be?"

"I'm sure I don't know. I've never heard of such a hex."

"Oh, you're not trying!" said Harry. "It's because you refuse to take it seriously."

"Well you're really just seeing things that aren't there," she said. "Besides aren't you the one with the access to all the knowledge of Voldemort – shouldn't he know curses better than anyone."

Harry frowned. "I'm not that comfortable delving through all the furthest nooks and crannies of his mind – there are some hideous things there. I'd need supportive friends with me while I tried that – and right now I don't feel like that includes you. I'm feeling more isolated from everyone. Well, almost everyone."

"You know we all work with you as closely as ever in training," pled Hermione.

"I know. But you all deny that you fight, and then you turn around and do it."

Then Hagrid said, "Maybe you're on to somethin' there, Harry. Maybe there's a curse that makes those affected not realize that they're acting that way. So they keep denying it 'cause the curse won't let 'em see it!"

"That's a great idea. All right – that's my working hypothesis. Until I find an explanation, all my free time's going to be at the library, probably in the Restricted Section. I'm not going to rest until I solve this."

"Okay, Harry," said Ron dubiously, "but it seems to me you're wasting your time."

"Ahh," said Harry intently, "but that's the nature of the curse, remember. It's like a conspiracy curse, designed to drive me insane."

"I think it's working," said Neville.


	41. New Life

Chapter 41 New Life

That evening after Patronus practice, Hermione and Neville joined Harry and Ron, who was assisting in training, at the lethifold pit. Harry held the basilisk wand in one hand opposite the lethifold's box. The others were in the gallery. They had examined the entire site and removed any reflective surfaces so there would not be any accidental petrifications. Harry released the lethifold. Once it was fully out of the box and moving toward Harry, he removed the cap from the basilisk wand and pointed it at the lethifold. The lethifold had been heading toward Harry's feet, but on feeling the warmth of his hand began to ooze in that direction. Almost as soon as it did, however, it stopped, petrified. They all cheered as Harry replaced the cap. Hermione came down with the atomizer of depetrification potion and sprayed it. Being spread out, rather than thick-bodied like Hagrid, it only took a minute for the potion to work. As agreed before hand, they all tried their patronus charm. Ron, Hermione and Harry's patronus all worked together to force the lethifold back into the box.

"Still nothing, Neville?" asked Harry.

"Silver mist," said Neville, sadly, "same as always."

"Well, don't quit," said Harry.

"Don't worry about that – I won't quit until the people who hurt my parents have paid and my parents are out of St. Mungo's."

Harry shook his head. "Aim high, Neville, but let's be realistic. We may be able to put away the guilty, but how do you expect your parents to recover?"

"I don't know, Harry, but they will. I've seen too many miracles these past few years to think otherwise."

"Attaboy, Neville," said Ron, clapping him on the back. "If I ever lose heart, all I need to do is talk to you for a good kick in the pants to get me going again."

That night Harry did not sleep well. He was thrilled at the potent new weapon they had. If it worked with the very rudimentary light sense of the lethifold, it almost certainly had to work on the related dementors, which had much better, though still rudimentary, vision. Yet Harry felt disturbed as well. Perhaps it was the shock of finding Hagrid petrified. Perhaps it was the notion of carrying in one's hand something as deadly as a basilisk. Both made the war more immediately real to Harry than it had been since the day of Hermione's kidnapping and rescue: the rest had just been warnings and training for Harry – others had seen the action.

Drifting off, Harry dreamed. He dreamed again of Voldemort's hordes spreading out to kill all who did not submit to him, and many who would have submitted but were 'unworthy,' in Voldemort's eyes. Harry again dreamed of him and his friends in their Hogwarts' robes riding basilisks the size of the one he had killed in the Chamber of Secrets, as if they were so many fremen riding sandworms in Dune. They led their basilisks against Voldemort's forces and petrified them all. Harry and his friends cheered at the destruction of Voldemort's forces. Then the tails of the basilisks whipped around and shattered the petrified bodies into tiny shards which scattered across the land. Something about this disquieted Harry, and he felt like he was about to have something revealed to him. He waited pensively for what was about to happen. Suddenly he was awake with a pounding on his chest.

Dobby was on him jumping up and down, yelling "Harry Potter, Harry Potter, wake up, Dobby has something to tell you!"

Harry shook his head. "Dobby, it must be after 2 a.m. – I get up in two hours - couldn't it have waited?" Harry asked civilly but a bit annoyed both at being awaken and at missing the end of the dream.

"Dobby begs Harry Potter's pardon," gasped Dobby, "but as Harry Potter is Dobby's dearest friend – after his lovely bride Melony, of course, …"

"Of course," agreed Harry.

"… Dobby had to tell Harry Potter first. Melony is having a baby! Dobby will be a father and a true glamdring!"

Dobby threw his arms around Harry's neck and hugged like an over-excited toddler.

"Everything has turned around for Dobby. Harry Potter has made it all happen."

"Well, I guess I helped you two get together, but I can assure you I had nothing to do with Melony's pregnancy, Dobby."

Dobby giggled uncontrollably. "Oh, no, Harry Potter. Dobby didn't mean that. But you helped Dobby meet and woo Melony, you saved the Gringotts' goblins and gave Dobby the chance to prove he is truly a goblin so that we might marry, you even kept Melony alive when she was mortally wounded - and you got Dobby his freedom."

"Well, I don't know as I really did anything to keep her alive but hold her, but that's what friends are for, Dobby," said Harry. "Aren't the two of you concerned about having a baby in the midst of the war?"

"We had thought at first about waiting, that's true, Harry Potter, but then we realized three good reasons to go ahead. We are living in Hogwarts castle and that's the safest wizarding place there is. Also, goblin mothers are so very powerful defending their home. And third, Melony and I have seen how you have made so many very good things happen, that we're both was sure you would soon make short work of Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"Oh. Okay. No pressure then," said Harry.

"We trust you, Harry Potter. We know you'll come through for your friends."

"I wish I could be as sure as so many other people seem to be."

"Have faith, Harry Potter. Everything will work out."

"I'll believe it when I see it. Congratulations, Dobby, but do you mind if I get a little more sleep? I have a quidditch match in a few hours."

"Good night, Harry Potter," said Dobby in a whisper and disapparated.

The next morning, Harry's mind was almost everywhere else but quidditch. He hoped he would be able to focus adequately: he was anxious to get permission from Professor Dumbledore to have access to the Restricted Section of the library and search for what curse would make everyone at school fight each other. He barely noticed the distance he had run on the morning run and had to be stopped by Luna when he began his third circuit of the lake. Not focused on the game, he ate a bigger breakfast than usual before Ron interrupted, "Planning on decorating the pitch, Harry?"

"Hm. What?"

"The way you're stuffing yourself - it won't take many maneuvers to make you hurl if you eat all of that."

"I'm afraid he's right, Harry," said Hermione. "You've already eaten more than I usually see you eat. In fact, that's more than I usually see Ron eat. What's up?"

"I'm just anxious to do that research we talked about."

"That?" she replied. "Oh, you know there's nothing to it."

"What do you know of it, Hermione?" snapped Ron. "Hagrid says we're fighting, too. We may not see it, but maybe it's so, so just shut your cakehole, why don'tcha?"

"Ron!" said Harry in shock. "I've never heard you speak so harshly to Hermione, even when you weren't a couple!"

"What are you talking about, Harry?" said Hermione. "Ron didn't do anything."

"Andrew," said Harry, "you heard it, didn't you? He just told her to 'shut her cakehole,' right?"

"Oh, I heard it alright," said Andrew.

"There, you see," said Harry.

"Mind you, it's about time!" continued Andrew. "That nagging know-it-all busybody gets up my nose like nobody's business. I mean, where do you get off, Granger, always telling everybody how to live. Why don't you just shut it for once?"

"Yeah?" sneered Hermione, rising aggressively from her place, hand reaching toward her wand. "Coming from a knuckle-dragging troglodyte like you, I'm sure I'll just follow that advice!"

"Quiet!" shouted Harry, causing the entire Hall to stare. "Aw, now see what you've made me do. I'm just going to go walk this off. I'll see you at the quidditch pitch, if you haven't hexed each other by then."

Harry stomped out of the Great Hall to the front doors and out to the steps. The weather had warmed a bit, though there was still a chill. He was looking vaguely across the lake when he heard a voice.

"I could do for a walk before the game, too. May I join you?"

It was Ginny.

"Hm! Oh, yeah, sure," replied Harry. Then he turned to her. "Are you seeing it, too, all the fighting?"

"No, not the way you seem to, but I see more than Ron and Hermione. I see enough to know you're not crazy. Well, at least about this. I'm concerned, too."

"Why is it that I'm seeing it so clearly and everyone else shrugs it off?"

"Well no one completely denies it, they just see a bit of tension and testiness. Hermione told me about your 'curse' theory and there may be something to it. You've always been more resistant than most to mind-altering spells – look how you've done against the Imperius. Maybe you're fighting it off. I'm feeling kind of proud that I'm seeing it better than others, but maybe it's the result of having been possessed by Riddle."

"Well, that works for you, but Hagrid sees it as clearly as I do, and he's never been possessed. Maybe the possession thing is a connection, but it's not the whole story. Come on, I want to speak with Reverend MacBoon before the match."

"All right, Harry, if you'd like."

"Sure you weren't sent out here to spy on me?"

"I swear no one told me to come check up on you."

"Ahh, 'no one told you' - but you _were_ checking up on me."

"Yeah, let's call it that," she said, then tilted her head his way as they walked and gave him a small smile.

Harry recognized that look So he had a chance with her after all. He felt a good bit less isolated, but it occurred to him that he had messed things up before. He'd have to play things cautious so as not to drive her away again. Keep the friendship going, but work on being a bit more familiar. When they reached the chapel, he stopped her and took her hands.

"Let me see," he said, peering at them.

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Ginny, with a little laugh. "You've seen my hands before."

"Oh, I was just concerned that last week's cave exploration might have chapped or marred them."

She turned her hands in his, never fully breaking contact. "Well, what do you think?"

He brought his hands together, enclosing hers. "Perfect. Just perfect." He smiled at her.

"I have a suspicion, Harry Potter, that you had no real concern that you'd find any problem."

Harry grinned even more broadly at her, then got a wistful look.

"Harry?" said Ginny, "What's the matter?"

"I look into your face and I see – my eyes, my face, reflected in those glasses. They're like a wall. I just don't feel like I'm connecting when I can't look you in the eye and see you looking back at me. Between this and the fighting, I feel like I'm the only one who sees anything here. It makes me feel so … alone."

"Well, you're in luck. We're here to see Reverend MacBoon – he doesn't wear shades; you won't have to feel so isolated."

"That helps. But I don't look into his eyes the way I …," Harry hesitated, then continued, "…erm, ah, … I'm sorry. I've said too much."

"Maybe, maybe not," said Ginny. "You sounded like you had something more to say. What was on your mind?"

"I … ah … Oh, we'd better find Cameron. We don't have long before the game."

Ginny paused before following as Harry opened the door and called for Reverend MacBoon.

At the quidditch match, Harry was relieved when they were able to take to the air. Ginny had held her peace through the visit with Cameron, but on the way back, she had prodded him to complete what he had started to say. Harry was already afraid he had gone too far, too fast. Why had he chosen touching her hands? – that was far too familiar: intimate almost. And then he got goofy over eyes again. Why couldn't he just keep such thoughts to himself? Still, he had tried pulling away emotionally before, and it hadn't worked. He'd just have to watch himself and take it easy, not go tumbling headlong into saying something stupid.

Harry's thoughts continued along this vein until he heard his name screamed. It was Ravenclaw's new seeker, Gwendolyn Iolian, a second-year.

"Coach!" she yelled, and Harry barely dodged the bludger headed for him by dropping to hang under his broom.

As he pulled himself back up on top, he called to her, "What's that all about, Gwen, you're not supposed to help the other seeker. Don't you want to win?"

"Sure I do," she said with a smile, tossing her lank yellow hair out of her face, "but there's a bigger game on than this one. I want my coach healthy. Tell you what," she added with an impish grin, "you just watch the bludgers and I'll take care of the snitch."

"Oh, you think so, do you? Well, I'll just …"

But he didn't finish. Gwendolyn cried "Oh," and shot off. Harry spun around and saw her heading to the snitch. It darted to the side as she tried to grab and she began to fall off her broom. Harry grabbed her robe and pulled her back on.

"There, now we're even," he said smiling.

"I won't go easy on you next time," she said.

"Don't," he replied.

Ravenclaw's team had improved considerably since the opening loss to Slytherin. Their chasers were no match for Gryffindor's more experienced chasers, but when they could get close to Gryffindor's goals, their new beater, Kendall Craig, a third year, proved adept at driving the bludgers toward the goals to disrupt Ron's defense. The snitch was proving elusive and Gryffindor had pulled to a 90-40 lead before Harry spied it near the ground at midfield and dove like a hawk after a sparrow to grab it and seal the victory. It seemed odd to him that his opponents were cheering as strongly as his teammates. Gwendolyn even gave him a hug.

"You're supposed to be disappointed," he said.

"I am," she said breathlessly, "but I also got to play quidditch with Coach Potter, and that makes the game special, win or lose."

Kendall, too, was smiling and jestingly shaking his fist. "Wait till next year – then we'll be the team with experience, and Gryffindor will have a new Seeker and Keeper."

Harry found himself praying that those would be the only positions needing new players.

At the celebration in the Gryffindor common room, Harry found a chance to talk to Hermione.

"So have you, Ron, and Andrew patched up that tiff from breakfast?" he asked.

"What tiff?" she asked. "Honestly, Harry, Ron, Andrew, and I could not be on better terms."

"I'm kind of afraid that you're right - that's as good as it can get."

"No, I mean it, Harry. I just don't know why you think there's a problem, but if you want to hang out in the library, who am I to say no? But first, you have to tell me what you were going to say to Ginny."

Harry tilted his head to look at her. "She was telling you things? It really was, erm, nothing."

"Right, Harry, that was really convincing," said Hermione. "Listen here, Potter, I can see your interest in her."

"She's a friend, a dear friend, really!"

"Yes, Harry, and to me Ron's 'a friend, a dear friend, really!' but he also means something more to me. And Ginny means something more to you."

"Maybe," said Harry, "but I'm not going to go rushing into anything."

"That didn't hold you up with Tonks."

"That was different."

"Why – you just wanted to get your jollies for awhile."

"Hermione!" growled Harry. "You know I'm not like that – I don't just 'use' people."

"No, you don't. So what's the difference?"

"How do I describe it? With Tonks and me, it was two lonely, frightened people who needed some comfort for a while. I was disappointed when it ended, but I knew going in that was the plan. She was just better at sticking to the plan than I wanted her to be."

"But with Ginny…?" prompted Hermione.

"But with Ginny, temporary is not part of any agreement or plan. And I don't want it to be."

"Well, Harry, there are no guarantees one way or another."

"With Tonks, I knew it was going to end pretty soon. But with Ginny, I don't know that, and I don't want it to be like that."

"You're not going to set things up to fall apart so that you've got an easy out, are you?"

"No. No, I sure hope not. I just feel wrong going into something as if it's going to be long-term, when I might be dead any day."

"And how many people are aware of that more than Ginny? Hasn't she been right there exposed to many of the dangers around you?"

"Yeah, she's brave all right. Or is it foolish?"

"We all are a bit of both around you, Harry. Give her a chance to show another kind of foolishness."

"Well, there's only a week before Christmas break, and we'll all be too busy until then, so we'll see how things are after break."

"No, you don't, Harry Potter! You'll give it a go over Christmas break. We'll all be here and even with training, there will be plenty of opportunities to spend time with her."

"You may be here, but I won't be. Before the match I agreed to go to Aberdeen with Cameron. He says he spends every Christmas break there with Mrs. Figg working at a Rescue Mission. That's a place where …"

"Harry! I was raised with muggles, too. I know what a Rescue Mission is. Are you sure it'll be safe?"

"We ran it by Dumbledore. I should've known – Cameron had already cleared it with him."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm all for charity work. But why now, and why you when we've got so much training to do."

"Dumbledore said there are plenty of capable team leaders who will be around He agreed that it would be good for me to do this kind of service, especially where no one knows who Harry Potter is, or even cares. Besides, it'll be good to take a vacation from all the fighting here."

"But with the bums – Eeeww!"

"We're supposed to call them 'clients' but from what Cameron tells me, 'bum' is pretty much accurate. But what happened to Miss Compassionate SPEW-founder?"

"The elves are forced and brainwashed into slavery. They need help. Bums just bring themselves down to that condition."

"That's just what the Dursleys used to say, well, except talking about elves. There's an awful lot they've been wrong about. I guess I'll find out what the 'clients' are really like. I'm going to make sure I go with an open mind."

"That's best, Harry. I'll bet your relatives have spent no more time at Rescue Missions than I have, and all I really know is what other people say. And we know about relying on the news reports, don't we?" said Hermione. "Well, okay, you're going to spend Christmas break away. Does Ginny know?"

"Yeah, she was with me when Cameron invited me. She agreed to take care of Hedwig for me."

"Still you have this weekend to spend some time with her."

"Okay, but just spending some time. I'm not going to try to get close just to go away for a week and a half."

"I wasn't pushing you to do anything more, Harry. You don't have to force yourself to be her friend. Just don't be too contrived – sometimes you have to let yourself have your feelings, good or bad."

"It's good to know you're still capable of some good advice, Hermione."

She smiled. "Just don't ask me about the so-called fighting."

"I won't! Oh, by the way," said Harry, "Dobby woke me up this morning to tell me he and Melony are expecting a baby."

"Actually a 'goblet' - they don't call their children 'babies' - ," corrected Hermione, "but that's wonderful and so exciting. I'll have to find out from Melony what kind of a blanket I can knit for her. Or maybe there's something else they can use. Oh, I wonder what the goblin customs are for this."

"Try Professor Flitwick – he should know."

"Great idea. Oh, this is wonderful. It's so nice to think of something else besides war."

"Yeah," said Harry wistfully, "something else besides war – that sounds really good."


	42. Aberdeen Rescue Mission

Chapter 42 Aberdeen Rescue Mission

"Ready, Harry?"

Harry had met Cameron in the Entry Hall after Harry's last class before Christmas break.

"I guess," said Harry, looking back up the stairs.

"I think any student who looks so longingly toward the library is due for a break," said Cameron. "No luck figuring out what sort of curse might do it?"

"No. I've only had a few days to search," said Harry dourly, "and I really feel I should be back in the library working on it. I think it may have something to do with the sunglasses, but I can't find a curse that would cause this. I've tested several pairs for magical properties and I find nothing. I wish I had some help. I only know of a few people who aren't affected and I seem to be the only one taking all the fighting seriously."

"That's not really so, Harry," said Cameron gently. "The faculty understand your concern, and indeed share it, since their classes are so frequently interrupted with altercations. Even with that, I'm not sure as they've seen it as severely as you and a few others do, but they are all very busy, as is Dumbledore. As for other staff, there's Mr. Filch - and we can't tell if he's affected because he always acts cantankerous –, Madame Pomfrey – and she is too busy fixing the results of the curse and of training - and me. Let me assure you that you do not want MY help researching anything to do with spells and curses – potions, creatures and plants, maybe, but not spells and curses."

"I guess you're right Cameron: it'll have to be my project alone," admitted Harry. "It's just that if we don't find a way to put a stop to all this fighting amongst ourselves, we will be easy targets for Voldemort's attack and it will happen by the end of the school year. Can there be much more important than that?"

"Nae, of course not, Harry."

"The way things are looking, with the students unable to get along, Hogwarts would be destroyed in such an attack and all of us killed."

"You don't have to convince me that war is a bad thing. God does not want his children to fight, although my understanding is that fighting in defense of self or others is acceptable. I understand the stakes. But I also believe that God is watching over us and will guide us to what is right, if we just keep faith in him. My understanding also is that the Headmaster believes he already has his best man on the job."

"Well, at any rate, I seem to be the only one who can work on it. I just hope I'm good enough for the job."

"Hasn't Professor Dumbledore always seen to it that you have what you need?"

"I suppose. I just wish I knew where this was heading."

"If you knew, then there wouldn't be anything to work out."

"I give up. You're right, you're right, you're right. So shouldn't I spend the holiday in the library?"

"You need a break. Besides, Professor Dumbledore agrees with me that taking the better part of a fortnight to serve your fellow man in a different way will be useful to you, if only to let your head clear and get organized and get a new perspective on things."

"Okay, okay. So where are we going and how are we getting there?"

"We'll be taking the Floo Network to meet Arabella at my grandmother's house in Aberdeen. There'd be enough room there even if Grandmum wasn't in a nursing home. Grandmum is a muggle; Grandpa MacBoon was killed in the first war. It's a short walk to the bus stop to get to the Mission."

"I could just apparate us – both to the house and to the Mission."

"Nae," said Cameron. "I've been apparated before – I'll have none of it. It's the Floo Network for me. And no one at the Mission knows about magic and we're to keep it that way."

Harry sighed. "Okay, I'll do it your way."

"Lesson number 1," said Cameron cheerily, "acceptance and humility – sometimes we have to let go and accept others taking the reins."

"Okay then – letting go. Show me the way."

"That's the spirit."

They went to the main fireplace. Cameron took out a leather pouch with Floo Powder and together they were off to Aberdeen. Mrs. Figg was already there waiting for them and they immediately smelled a potion brewing. Cameron and Harry walked into the kitchen where Mrs. Figg was carefully but quickly preparing ingredients.

"Mandrakes, Arabella?" asked Cameron. "What kind of a potion is this? I thought we weren't going to be doing any magic-related work over Christmas."

"Ahh, Cameron, Harry, there you are," she said, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. "It's depetrification potion. It's a special supply Dumbledore asked for. I'm not sure why, but there are only a few things that can cause petrification, and all of them are horrid. I shudder to think that the enemy has gotten ahold of something as hideous as that."

"Mmm, yes," said Cameron, "but then Dumbledore'll be having his reasons."

"Yes," said Harry, trying to look concerned and mystified, even though he was certain it was so they would have an extra supply based on their own basilisk, "something like that would be awful."

"Well, the Mission called to see when we would be arriving. I told them I had womanly problems – that always works to but some time – and that I would send you two along as soon as you arrived."

"Okay, Arabella. We're off then," said Cameron. "We can bring our things upstairs when we get back; we've got them in the parlor out of the way. Any chance we could be having some of your famous shepherd's pie when we get back."

"Don't I know I've got to make that for you every time we get together, you silly lad? The things are all ready to assemble and sitting in the icebox. I just need to get this on a gentle simmer before I get to that. Some fresh-baked bread as well."

"Lovely," said Cameron.

"Sounds good to me," said Harry. "I thought this was going to be roughing it, but so far things are pretty cozy."

Mrs. Figg cocked her head at him. "Aye, I'll provide some comforts, Harry, but don't kid yourself. There's an ocean of work to be done at the Mission and they rarely have a strong young man such as yourself to do the heavy and difficult chores that ought to be done, so you'll be earning your bread."

"Heavy and difficult? Cameron, are you sure we can't use a bit of magic?" asked Harry.

"We'll see. We can't be caught with it, you know, but with some care…" Cameron winked. "Let's be off, then, the sun goes down early this time of year. See you on the evening, Arabella."

"Be careful, you two, neither of you are used to stoop labor."

Harry and Cameron had not even had a chance to take off their heavy cloaks, so they fastened them and headed to the bus stop. Cameron had already made a point of having the correct fare, so they were able to catch a bus and arrive at the Mission in short order.

Mrs. Figg had not been kidding about the work available for a young man. The Mission had three primary operations: a residential area with dorms for the clients, little used except in harsh weather, when it was full to overflowing; a dining hall to provide meals; and a counseling center, where clients were given assistance on alcohol and other drug abuse, mental and medical problems, and employment. Most of the work involved was performed by volunteers, generally middle-aged women and retirees of both sexes. Few if any were capable of the heavy lifting and other physical effort required for a thorough cleaning, significant repairs to the buildings, grounds maintenance, and reorganization of supplies. Some of these things had been attempted, but with the Mission rarely having an excess of workers available for the basic operations, many had been left undone in hopes that somehow extra volunteers would arrive and take care of them.

First, it was the mattresses of the dorms. They were not overly shabby, but they were all foul. Many of the clients only checked in to the dorms after they had drunk or drugged themselves into a stupor. The Mission volunteers were used to this. The clients would be helped to a bed and in the morning they would be encouraged to take a shower and exchange their old clothes for clean used clothing. However, due to the condition of the clients when they were placed on the beds, the mattresses were all stained with urine, blood, feces and vomit. A change of bedding removed much of these bodily substances and sponges were used to blot them off in the mornings, but what had soaked in was left to dry.

Harry was given a dolly, a smock and thick rubber gloves and asked to take all the mattresses outside to a shed, spray them with disinfectant and stain remover, and return them to the bunk bed frames after they had dried. He felt queasy seeing and smelling the nasty condition of the mattresses. Harry didn't so much mind moving the mattresses the muggle way. The exercise felt pretty good. But the stain remover did little on such old and repetitively applied stains and Harry didn't think there was enough disinfectant in the world to make him comfortable with the idea of lying on those mattresses. He felt bad about leaving the mattresses for the clients in a condition he himself would not have wanted to use them. It was also very time-consuming to spray them and let them dry.

To move things along, Harry found Cameron, who had been pressed into bathroom clean-up in the absence of need for his counseling, and who didn't much mind being interrupted from this duty for a good cause. Cameron stood guard at the shed door while Harry cleaned the mattresses magically. The only indication that they were not brand new was the fraying at the edges.

Cameron looked in on the first batch. "Uh-uh, Harry," he said, "too good. It's suspicious. Put some pale brown and green splotches on them."

Harry did so, and together they took the first group upstairs and loaded the dolly with more nasty mattresses. With the aid of both Cameron and magic, the job was done in a couple of hours, when it had been expected to be a ten-hour job. Harry felt good that the mattresses were decent enough to lie on.

Next Harry was asked if he had any maintenance skills and he told briefly of the many types of chores he had done around the Dursley home. He was given a long list of maintenance and repairs needed for the grounds and the buildings and asked to tackle the ones he could handle and had time for. It would have been short work by magic, but very few of the chores were sufficiently out of sight that he could do them that way. That was okay with Harry because it felt good to tackle the jobs the muggle way. He had the skills for nearly all of them, except plumbing and electric. These jobs took him the next four days, but he was able to take a much-appreciated break for the Sunday worship service at the Mission.

Cameron led the service, as it was the regular chaplain's time for a vacation as well. They sang hymns and said prayers. Cameron asked Harry to read the verses which were to be discussed in the sermon: the parable of the Prodigal Son from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 15. Cameron explained about God's forgiveness and compassion and that this is the grace of God – that all are God's children, and at times all have strayed from Him, but that anyone can be reconciled with God if he or she will only let go of the burdens which hold him or her back. Harry could see how this was a particularly appropriate sermon for the clients, but he also felt that there was much wisdom there for him as well.

After the service he asked Cameron about that feeling, and Cameron explained, "We all make mistakes or hold on to problems. This causes separation from God and is called sin. But God loves us and forgives us no matter what we have done. It's a message that everyone needs to understand. So yes, there was much there for you, Harry," then Cameron began pointing around the room, "and for him, and her, and Arabella, and me, and everyone – even Voldemort and his followers."

"I don't think they're listening to that message, Cameron."

"No, I'm sure you're right, but God is love and love is patient, and with God, all things are possible."


	43. In Extremis

Chapter 43 In Extremis

A strong cold front was bringing in a major storm that evening. The next morning when Harry awoke he could tell that things seemed different. He looked out the window and everything was blanketed in ice and there was still a light drizzle falling that froze to everything it touched. There was an 'ice palace' type of beauty to everything, shining as it all was in the encasement of ice, reflecting and bending the light. However, Harry could see how the ice weighed down the trees and realized that this was very dangerous weather for any living thing outdoors. He dressed warmly and headed down to breakfast.

"Aah, Harry, there you are!" greeted Cameron. "We wanted to let you sleep as long as possible since you get up so early at school, but they'll be needing us certain in weather like this."

"Sure, of course," yawned Harry. "That's what we're here for. There's time for some breakfast though, isn't there?"

"So long as you like porridge and sausages," said Mrs. Figg, ladling out a large steaming bowl of oatmeal and putting it in front of Harry. "Eat hearty, Harry, you'll be very busy on a day like today, and they'll be counting on you and Cameron to handle the heavy chores and outdoor things."

"Right-o!" said Cameron, "but before we get going, I'll be taking a look around the house to see how the ice is affecting Grandmum's place. We may need to lighten the load on the trees or gutters before we go."

Harry ate his porridge as quickly as the heat of it would allow, alternating spoonfuls with bites from the plentiful sausages and sips from the tumbler of juice Mrs. Figg insisted Harry needed for the weather. After Harry warmed areas of the house and yard that were vulnerable to the ice, they were off. The radio said the buses weren't running until the roads could be cleared, so they walked. Despite being thoroughly bundled and hunching their shoulders against the weather, Cameron and Mrs. Figg kept their eyes open for signs of someone living on the street. Harry was surprised how they were able to espy the telltale signs of street dwellers, despite efforts to make themselves inconspicuous. Harry almost never saw them. It was like with seeing magical things, more a matter of knowing how to see them.

At the Mission, things were already bustling even though more than half the staff and volunteers had not yet been able to get in. In addition to those regular clients that came in whenever the weather got fierce, the bobbies and relief agencies were sending street people to every available shelter, as the temperature continued to drop and the rain turned to snow. Mrs. Figg went right to work in the kitchen to get plenty of hot food going; she took Harry with her to lift the heavy bags from the floor and retrieve from storage the large boxes that they would need. Cameron went to help with registration and assignments. Harry was amazed at the way the place transformed from the sleepy, almost lonely, facility it had been on the weekend to being as crowded, chaotic, and yet purposeful as a goblin hullabaloo.

Harry was kept scurrying all day and evening long. If he wasn't doing the heavy lifting in the kitchens and dorms, he was collecting and taking out great bins of trash and garbage, or shoveling – scraping was more like it – the walk and drive to keep access, or serving food, or cleaning up afterward. Whenever he found himself alone, he took the opportunity to clean up the area magically, figuring he would be asked to clean it eventually and may have watchful muggle eyes about at such times. While cleaning up after dinner, Mrs. Figg told him that with people still coming in, they would have to stay at least that night, and perhaps the one after that. Harry let on that he was glad he had cleaned the mattresses ('specially' he said with a wink at her to avoid mentioning magic).

"It'll do _us_ no good, Harry," she replied, "'though I'm glad they're clean. They'll all be taken by clients. The reserves are being laid on the floors between the bunks and the clients will have those too. You'll have to kip up where you can. The divans are already claimed. You might be able to lay out some bags of flour or such in the pantry."

"You're kidding!" said Harry, "You know I could provide a bit of comfort if …"

"None of that, Harry, we'll do things the 'regular' way," she whispered.

"I could apparate back to the house," Harry pled. "I can take you and Cameron with me."

"Too obvious. There's too much activity around the place. There's already talk of how clean the bathrooms are for it being a rush," she said, arching her eyebrow at Harry, who tried to look innocent.

They toughed it out. They stayed at the shelter for the nest three nights, working straight through Christmas Day. Even at the Dursleys he had never been worked so hard on Christmas. Harry didn't mind the work and Cameron's and Mrs. Figg's enthusiasm were infectious: you'd think they were at an amusement park with a 'no wait' pass for the good cheer they had about helping the clients.

The attitude was infectious, that is, until Harry had to deal with the actual clients themselves. A few were alright, or at least civil, but most were rude and surly. They resented being in a building; they resented being subject to schedules; they resented having rules to follow; they resented being expected to get along with their neighbors. They resented just about everything: the food wasn't good enough, the beds weren't comfortable enough, the telly wasn't clear enough; the showers weren't spacious or warm enough. Never a consideration was given to the fact that they never had these things when they weren't at a shelter, only that whatever was there wasn't good enough.

And that went double for Harry and Cameron and Mrs. Figg and all the staff of the Mission. They were subjected to some of the foulest verbal abuse Harry had ever heard. The clients accused them of stealing things. They were touched inappropriately - by both men and women - and laughed at when they pushed wandering hands away. If Harry had not had the example of Cameron and Mrs. Figg dealing with all this so serenely, he felt he surely would have pulled his wands and hexed the lot of them. There wasn't a chance to talk about it all, but just seeing that they were dealing with it so well brought Harry around time and again when he would have liked to have responded badly. Even when they were finally able to get back and forth to the house for sleep they were too tired to even talk about anything.

On the bus on the Friday morning after Christmas, Cameron seemed a bit anxious. He hemmed a bit before saying to Harry, "Harry, there's an open meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous tonight at the Mission. 'Open' means anyone can come. Arabella and I are going, and I think you should, too."

Harry looked puzzled. "I've barely had anything to drink in my life – a few butterbeers, a taste of whiskey, a bit of firewhiskey, that's all."

"Nae, Harry, I'm not saying you have a problem. I just think it would be an eye-opener for you to hear what some people had sunk to and recovered from. Some of what you hear at the meetings can be quite shocking and at the same time inspirational. It's a side of people you should be aware of."

Some people had shown up near the end of dinner and started setting up for the meeting in the lecture room/chapel. Harry was asked to move the largest coffee urn from the kitchen to the back of the room and to bring in the several gallons of water needed for it. Harry was a bit nervous about going to the meeting, but also curious. He had at various times heard of AA, but just had a notion of a room full of drunks – very much like the Mission's clients – but the people who set up looked very normal and quite prosperous, people the Dursleys would have brought out their best china for. And yet, not quite normal – they radiated cheer and hope, just as Cameron did. Harry had to clean the pots behind the kitchen before he could go, so he surreptitiously used magic to make the back door stick and cover the windows with dust so he could clean the pots magically and get to the meeting.

Harry looked at the posters and brochures and books. When Cameron arrived, Harry waited until he was done greeting the people there. He seemed to know most of them, but then that was not a surprise since he was a regular volunteer at the Mission.

"Cameron, these materials here are pretty strange."

Cameron smiled. "How so, Harry?"

"Well, the advice on how to act better and look inside yourself makes a lot of sense. I've seen some of those ideas in magazines and other places."

"Aye, AA doesn't claim to have been the first with any of these ideas, but the success it has had has helped spread the ideas through society."

"Yeah, I can imagine. But the thing that gets me is that so many of the writings sound, well, desperate."

Cameron nodded. "O' course, Harry. Do you think people who love drinking come in here before they are desperate? The last thing they really want to do is give up liquor. They have to be crushed by their obsession until they have only one choice – reform themselves or die. It's that 'back against the wall' sense that infuses everything done here – it's a matter of life and death. Unfortunately very few people will really examine themselves deeply until they feel desperate. I've used this program to guide our work together."

"But … I'm not an alcoholic!" Harry said somewhat loudly.

A visitor nearby overheard and nodded at Harry, saying in mild remonstrance, "Denial is the surest sign. You're in the right place."

Cameron laughed at the defensive posture Harry took. He waved to the man and explained, "Jim, he really isn't. He's just a guest of mine here."

"If you say so, Cameron," replied Jim. "I still say there're two types of people – those who have the Program and those who need it."

"I know, Jim," said Cameron understandingly. "That's one of the reasons Harry is here – I've been helping him with a program."

"Lucky lad, then, to get on a program before hitting bottom. Stick with Cameron, son, he knows of what he speaks."

Jim went up to get the meeting started as Cameron steered Harry first to get a styrofoam cup of coffee – so strong Harry nearly choked on it – and then to sit in a couple of chairs Mrs. Figg had saved for them.

"There's a kind of missionary zeal to those who have turned their lives around, Harry."

"No kidding," said Harry in mild sarcasm.

"Those who have made it in the program were those who realized that they were staring death in the face, and were willing to give up everything in their lives they had foolishly clung to in order to embrace life. You came to me in much the same attitude."

"Not without reason."

"Aye, but so many people would have turned away from what was staring at them. You accepted the facts and you have proved willing to do whatever it takes to find that strength within you."

"You say that, and yet I don't feel any more up to the job than when we started."

"The Headmaster has assured me that it will help you put all the pieces together – if you get the chance."

Just then the meeting got started. There were some prayers and recitations at first, which reminded Harry of the church service he went to with the McMillans. But after the opening rituals, people were invited to speak about their problems with alcohol and their efforts toward recovery. Harry wasn't sure if it was more harrowing listening to the appalling things people had done on alcohol or drugs and the repulsive states they found themselves in as a result, or listening to the tales of efforts made to turn themselves around. He had trouble believing people could survive many of the things he was hearing, and yet, except for the new people, most of whom were clients of the Mission, most of the people were cheerful, sincere, warm, and serene.

Near the end, Jim asked for anniversaries. Harry watched as in turn several people arose – the very newest got a white poker chip to signify a new beginning, a commitment to try to live without alcohol. Others got chips for a month without drink or drugs, or three months, or other periods. All were greeted with cheers and applause for every milestone reached. Then Cameron rose up and came to the front.

Jim handed him a blue chip and they gave each other a bear hug.

Jim looked Cameron in the eye. "I was wondering how long ye were going to lie doggo on us."

"Speech, speech," went up the call. Cameron turned and faced the meeting.

"It's good to be back. Where I work, it's not always easy to get to meetings. This," he held up the chip, "represents 27 years without a drink or a drug."

A thunderous ovation ensued. Harry stared open-mouthed.

Cameron briefly described his problems with alcohol like it was a form of possession. Then he concluded, "By the grace of God, I hit bottom while still in my 20s. There have been some trying times – worst of all, the deaths of people I loved – but I've had some good people around me, and of course God will never abandon me, and I'm here to say: it can be done!"

Again there was thunderous applause. At least half of those at the meeting insisted on shaking Cameron's hand or hugging him as he made it back to his seat. Mrs. Figg stood as he approached and threw her arms around his chest, and laid her tear-streaked face against his chest.

"Ah, Cameron, I'm so proud of you! I'll never tire of coming to your anniversaries."

Harry was still staring silently, in shock. Cameron winked at him.

"Just something I thought you ought to know."

Finally the weather warmed a bit, the ice melted and the streets dried. Although the clients were encouraged to stay, few did: they resented rules and walls and had already tolerated such more than they cared to. It was still not until the day after New Years' Day that the three of them were able to have a relaxed dinner at the house. Harry was so wound up with frustration at the way the clients had treated them that he said nothing all the way back from the shelter and during preparation for dinner. When his help wasn't needed, he sat in the parlor staring into the fire and tossing a couple months of junk mail into the fire piece by piece, watching it curl and burn.

At dinner, Cameron passed around glasses of red wine – taking grape juice for himself - and then raised his glass for a toast, "Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to serve our fellow man."

"Hear, hear," said Mrs. Figg.

Harry set his glass down without a sip and glared.

Cameron smiled both knowingly and mischievously. "Something wrong, Harry?"

"How can you say that? Those were the rudest bunch of people I have ever seen. They were foul, abusive, crude, unappreciative, disgusting, and vile."

"Harry, did you expect people who live in the alleys to be sweet and well-spoken?"

"They could at least be civil. They could at least cooperate a bit! They could at least keep their bloody hands to themselves!"

"Actually they can't," said Mrs. Figg. "They are very, very sick, by and large. They aren't really in control of themselves. Harry, there are a few people who live on the streets who are reasonable, decent human beings who just don't want to live normal lives. But that's a very small portion. And it's not that the rest of these people are simply unable or unwilling to work. If that were there only problem, they could go on assistance, have a government apartment and at least be comfortable. The vast majority live on the streets because they are addicts, or schizophrenic, or otherwise insane. Some hear voices and even talk back to the voices. Many of those who were there kept sneaking out even during the freezing rain to get their drugs or alcohol. We turned a blind eye on that, because as bad as those things make them, they are much more cooperative if they aren't in withdrawal."

"Harry," added Cameron, "if it weren't a life or death threat, most of them would not even come. And even with the foul weather, many had to be run into the shelters by the bobbies just to keep them alive."

"If they don't want the help, why do you keep doing it?"

Cameron smiled. "Because they need the help. They may not see their need, they may not appreciate the effort, but still their lives are precious, every one of them, and so long as there is life, there is hope. Hope that they will stay alive for a bit longer and start to realize that they can get help and do better. Many of the volunteers you met used to be clients. So was I. We sobered up, or got psychiatric help or got off drugs or alcohol, whatever was hindering us. And now we have productive lives and decent homes and give time to help those who are like we were."

"Can't you make them get off the drugs or get help?"

"People keep trying different ways of making people stay sober or keep on their needed medications. Unfortunately, experience has shown that rarely lasts. Success is rare unless the clients are motivated."

"Yes," said Mrs. Figg, "so you try to keep them alive and show them that their lives can get better. Many are lost, but quite a number come around. And even for those who never straighten their lives out, we ease their burden and make their poor existence a little better, and that much is good too."

"So even though people don't see their need and don't appreciate what you're doing, you keep at it."

"Exactly."

"You taught me that when we do things for the least among us, we do it for God."

"He is in all of us, and loves all of us."

They waited as Harry thought. Finally he nodded his understanding. He picked up his glass of wine and said, "It helps to now have a human face to it. Thank you, God, for the opportunity to serve our fellow man."

Cameron and Mrs. Figg raised their glasses with him.


	44. Deeper

Chapter 44 Deeper

As much as Harry disliked using the Floo network, it had the advantage of bringing him right into the immediate environs of Hogwarts castle. It also just seemed more hospitable to travel with Cameron, having spent the holiday with him, even if 'travel' in the magical world only meant a 15 second swirl through the Floo system. Still, it rather reminded him of being flushed down a toilet.

Thus it was that Harry emerged from the rectory fireplace on the Saturday before classes resumed after Christmas Break. Cameron stretched and said he would need a nap before making preparations for the next day's service at the chapel, so Harry thanked Cameron for the very different Christmas Break and made his way with his things to Gryffindor dorm.

Harry was not initially surprised that the castle was so quiet. After all, he had spent several Christmas breaks in a nearly deserted Hogwarts Castle and had rather enjoyed the solitude of it. But as he made his way up to the Gryffindor dorms, he realized it was too quiet. Almost half of the students were planning on staying over the break. All who stayed were going to do additional training. Some truly preferred to maintain training, and some simply couldn't go to their families. With many of the wizarding families having taken up residence in whatever available rooms there were in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, there just wasn't room available for students to return as well. And yet there were no students about as Harry traipsed up the stairs.

He made it all the way to the Gryffindor boys seventh year dorm without meeting a single person. It seemed like he should have at least run into fifth- or seventh-years preparing for OWLs or NEWTs respectively, but he did not. He told himself that they probably were all in safe rooms so they could study with their glasses off, but he was not completely convinced. He called to Sirius' portrait and to his relief, Sirius was not far off.

"Hello, Harry, good break?" said Sirius enthusiastically.

"Yeah, actually, it turned out that way. I learned a lot and felt good doing what I was doing. Say, what's up around here, it's awfully quiet."

"Um, well, you know, people are occupied," said Sirius, obviously avoiding a straight answer.

"Occupied? All of them? How – or is it something I'm not to know about?"

"Oh, well, I guess I'll be the bearer of the news. After all, what'll you do – kill me? Too late for that!" Sirius barked a raucous laugh, and then quieted on seeing Harry's appalled expression. "Sorry, Harry, there's just something about being the portrait of a dead guy that makes for macabre humour. Listen, everyone's in the Hospital Wing and Melony's Goblin Clinic."

"I thought the Goblin Clinic wasn't supposed to be installed for another couple of months?"

"Yeah, well, they needed the space, so they rushed it. It was just a matter of expanding the space and bringing in pallets and the medicines for goblin healthcraft."

"Now are you going to tell me why everyone is in one or the other – what happened? Everyone hex each other?"

"No!" said Sirius overenthusiastically. "There were several dozen that weren't hexed!"

"Several dozen? So – what – is that … fifty out of over five hundreds?"

"That's about right - the healer trainees, Luna Lovegood, Neville, Moony – oh but he's not a student – the students not in the DA, and a few others, I forget. They're helping with the others' recovery."

"Well, at least they're doing something right. How'd it happen?"

"They were doing training outdoors on New Year's Day and a couple of the ground teams got into a fight. Their exchanges of spells knocked a few people from the squadrons off their brooms. The squadrons that were hit got angry and attacked back, but they weren't sure which units had hit them, so they hit several that weren't involved. Some of the people in those units counter-attacked the squadrons; others blamed it on the first ground teams and attacked them instead. It escalated pretty rapidly from there. This is just what I got by listening in. The good news is that it took over three hours, because they've all gotten so much better at defense."

"That's cold comfort when they have to defend against their supposed comrades. So what next?"

"Eventually, there weren't many people left to fight, because so many were down. The few who were uninjured finally calmed down enough to start unhexing and removing people to the castle. The teachers and elves were summoned to help as well."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, that was three days ago – unless they were using worse spells than we've trained with, they should all be okay now."

"They were, most of them, but the teachers wanted to figure out what went wrong, so they tried to set the situation up again yesterday. The students got to arguing about who did what and when: it escalated again and they all got re-hexed, this time with half the teachers caught up in it as well."

Harry sighed. "Is everyone accounted for?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Any deaths?"

"No."

"I guess that's the silver lining. Well, I guess I'd better get down there and see what I can do."

Harry went first to the new Goblin Clinic and greeted everyone there. Everyone seemed cheery enough, as if nothing was unusual about several hundred students being hexed into hospital twice in one week. Harry was surprised to see Hagrid lying on a mattress on the floor.

"Hi, Hagrid."

"Hullo, Harry. Good to see you back."

"What are you doing on the floor there?"

"Well, Madam Pomfrey thought my hexes would be better treated with the goblin skills, so I was brought here. It seems, though, I'm a bit too heavy for the pallets the goblin healers use so that their patients are on a good level for them, so a mattress was brought in for me. It's real good for my back, you know."

"Uh-huh. Well, that was part of what I was getting at, but what I was more concerned with is how you even came to be jinxed out of commission."

"Oh, well, Harry, when thing started to get out of hand, I kind of stepped in to put a stop to it, and … well, the last I remember on that is a whole bunch of differen' spells converging on me at once. You know, I've been hit with spells plenty o' times before, but that was the first time I ever been stopped by 'em."

"I can believe it. You know what this means, don't you?"

"No, Harry, other than that someone else had to care for the grounds and creatures for a few days."

"The attack on you was coordinated. Whatever is causing all this fighting doesn't just make everyone angry and ready to fight each other like a pub brawl: it makes them coordinate attacks to destroy us from within. That's no potion doing that: there has to be a hex and a clever one at that."

"I see where you're getting that, Harry. I wish I could help, but like I say, I only saw the very beginning."

Harry chatted with Hagrid and others in the Clinic for a while more, and then went through the Hospital Wing. There he found the same 'nothing's amiss' attitude. It seemed that even though they had so totally lost control, they had barely a memory of it unless pushed for details. When they remembered what happened, they didn't attribute it to any spell, but got angry with whoever they said started it all.

As Harry passed Professor Snape, who was assisting with administration of Potions, Snape hissed quietly, "I don't know how yet, but I know this is somehow because of you, Potter."

Harry lowered his head and eyes, and replied loudly enough for just Snape to hear, "I'm afraid you're right. Isn't it always, Professor?"

Harry found Hermione working on non-magical injuries, mostly caused by things falling on people or people falling on things.

"You can see it now, can't you, Hermione?"

"Oh, there you are, Harry. Happy Christmas. Thanks for the books – I always wanted to read the Foundation series. See what?" she said merrily.

"Look around you! You have half the students and faculty who stayed here in bed from fighting, and that's after unjinxing most of the rest – don't you see something's up?"

"Oh, so there were a few training injuries – it's to be expected, you know."

"A few? Less than 10 percent _escaped_. And that was only because they were running out of people to fight with!"

"Hi, Harry!" interrupted Colin Creevey, cheerfully awaiting unhexing from a _torticus_ spell that had him twisted in a highly unnatural way. "They didn't run out of people to fight with, they just got tired. See, there's no curse after all!"

"Oh, Harry, can you help with Colin?" said Hermione. "We don't know who got him with that. We certainly haven't worked on it. None of us is familiar with the reversal."

Harry pulled his wand and after searching Voldemort's knowledge for the corrective, unhexed Colin, who unwound himself and stretched. He thanked Harry before trotting off happily to Madame Pince for release.

"Do you see, Hermione? Colin thought everything was normal, having 90 percent of the students here in hospital."

"Oh, but it's not that odd. We had some excellent training. You should have a few more trips, Harry."

"I'd probably find a crater here if I did that!" Harry yelled sharply, then gestured an apology to the patients he had disturbed.

"You're so silly, Harry. We'd never harm the school. So what if it's been a bit busy here? Honestly Harry, we train hard – what were you expecting? Personally, I'm glad for the extra training time. A few more sessions like this and I might be ready to take the Level 1 Healer license test by the end of the year. Wouldn't that be awesome?"

Harry was infuriated at Hermione's lackadaisical attitude. He started to grab her by the shoulders and felt like shaking her, but he reminded himself that she was apparently being affected by the hex as well. It wouldn't do to punish the sick for being sick. He would just have to find the cure. Nonetheless, Harry growled in anger and stomped off without a further word.

Harry went immediately to the library. Harry wished Dumbledore had been able to help, but the Headmaster had said he had no idea what magic would cause such widespread aggressive behavior. He warned Harry not to attempt to use a counter-spell without knowing just what he was dealing with. Dumbledore reminded Harry about what had happened when Professor Umbridge tried to remove Fred and George's fireworks display two years earlier – the fireworks multiplied on every attempt to squelch them. Harry agreed that they did not want to risk multiplying the discord about the school by acting blindly. Still it added to Harry's frustration that Dumbledore could not even so much as point Harry in the right direction. More frustrating, and ultimately more frightening, was that if this was some sort of a spell, it was beyond the conscious knowledge of both Dumbledore and Voldemort.

When Harry got to the library he was half tempted to kick the crutches out from under a student in the aisle who had been injured the day before whose potion had not quite completed his recovery. He caught himself and thought of the clients at the Rescue Mission: he reminded himself that the students were all sick in a different way and didn't even realize the nature of their sickness. He'd have to do everything he could to help them, even if they didn't really appreciate his efforts just yet. Nonetheless, he was very glad to be the only student authorized to be in the Restricted Section.

Before he could get to the Restricted Section, however, he was interrupted by a jubilant voice.

"Potter! Hey, Potter!"

It was Malfoy, who was clearly enjoying the inability of the DA to function.

"Yes, Malfoy," said Harry, in his best 'let's get this over with' tone.

"Oh, what's the matter, Potter? Disappointed you missed the fun? Have you decided yet to change the name of your band of lemmings to SDA – for Self-Destruction Army? Or if you like 'DA' it could be the Disintegrating Army – like that? You should be proud – they learned so well from their mistakes on Wednesday that they were able to repeat them precisely yesterday. Now that's progress!"

Harry smiled patiently. "Very funny, Malfoy. Aren't you even concerned about your friends who were injured?"

Malfoy sneered. "Friends? You should know better than that! You even have most of those who knew better last year following you this year. Other than a handful of other students with enough sense to not make targets of themselves, I can barely get a word out of anyone but the professors. This may be the longest conversation I've had with a student in your DA this whole year."

"Why don't you join us, Draco?" said Harry genuinely. "You're welcome to come, even if you just want to work on defensive spellwork."

"That'll be the day! Besides," said Draco, jerking a thumb toward the hospital wing, "your training in defensive spells seems to be rather spotty."

Harry thought about that. That wasn't quite it – the melee had taken quite a while, according to Sirius. They could defend, but the fight was just too much. Then something occurred to him.

"Draco, did you see any of the fighting?"

"Just yesterday's, Potter. Why, you want a spell-by-spell description? I'd love to tell _all _about it."

"No, thanks, I've heard enough, but tell me: did you see them just training or were they fighting each other?"

"Oh they were fighting alright," drawled Draco. "I only saw them yesterday, but they were knocking each other out something fierce. It was a hoot, or should I say a riot?"

"And you were wearing your sunglasses?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I was," snapped Draco, grabbing at his glasses to make sure Harry couldn't summon them away, "and don't you dare try to take these. You just go on and leave me alone."

"Aww, Draco, you're getting unhappy – shall I cheer you up some?" Harry said, slowly reaching toward his wands.

"Forget it, Potter!" Draco hurried off so that he could neither lose his glasses and be put on detention nor be Cheering-Charmed into the hospital again.

Harry sat at his usual table in the Restricted Section, surrounded by the piles of books he had selected for study. So, he thought, I know something more now: the curse is not affecting Malfoy even though he wears the sunglasses. It only affects those working to defend. He started to select books based on this new information when his scar began to burn. He felt Voldemort's glee at Harry's predicament.

"How does it feel, Potter?" echoed Voldemort's gloating voice in his head. "Aah, that's right – I know how you feel. You know you're on a losing team. You've thrown in with the rabble, and now you are being swept away in the flood of them acting like a rabble. What a surprise. Did you think they would be able to be disciplined all along? Oh, they were impressive last year, all of them getting up early and running around the lake and doing their training and exercises. Yes, of course I know all about it. You've produced some good fighters, too. But you lack insight: skill makes one proud and proud people must be under the thumb of overbearing power to be made to cooperate. You have the magical power, as we both know, but you're emotionally too weak to dominate them as they would need. If you could only be strong enough to be cruel, I could use someone like you on the winning side. We are, after all, so very much alike, even beyond the unfortunate accident at Godric's Hollow. Stop fighting me and give up that insipid sentimentality of yours and you can have the recognition you crave – you can wield the scepter, while I stay behind the scenes. Together there is no force on earth which can stop us. Look in yourself – you know it's true. Together we can have anything we want, everything we want. No one could resist our control – they would be putty. Let your mind relax and I will guide us: we'll have the power and the glory and we'll have a kingdom which lasts forever and ever."

"NEVER!" screamed Harry. "NEVER!"

"Shhh!" said Madam Pince.

All the students in the general section of the library looked up at him. None seemed very shocked or annoyed. Several gave him a thumbs-up, and others were smiling happily.

"You can see," thought Harry, "the things I want that you also desire. But you aren't even capable of seeing what my heart most desires. You are blind to the best things. I'd rather die fighting on behalf of those I love than to live on forever without love. That is the difference which truly divides us – the things you say make us similar are superficial."

"You are a foolish boy," said the contemptuous voice in Harry's head. "What good is dying to help others? When you die, and you will, you will be gone. There will be nothing else. Trust me: I have been as close to death as anyone can be and still come back to walk this earth. Better to walk forever, even 'unloved' (the voice in his head intoned mockingly), than to rot in a coffin, your 'love' spilled to the winds, while those who 'loved' you forget you ever existed. In the end, no one cares, Potter, whether you live or die – you're just the tool they use to protect themselves. If you don't take care of yourself, no one else will. That's all that living is about. And if you can't grasp that, then you may as well die!"

"If that is all life is about," thought Harry to Voldemort, "then I may as well."


	45. A Friend in Need

Chapter 45 A Friend in Need

Harry Potter was not hard to find. He had his scheduled times – morning run followed by a half-hour's defense training with Ginny (which had continued even when she ceased to get detentions as frequently as she had been) and another half hour training with Professor Flitwick, meals, classes, exercise, DA and Patronus sessions, study with Reverend MacBoon, Hagrid's wizard training, and quidditch practice and games. The rest of Harry's time was spent in one of two places – the Restricted section of the library or his bed. He was determined to find out how to stop the discord among the students.

It was not just the students, either, as the effects had spread to the faculty as well. Even Professors McGonagall and Trelawney – normally cold to each other but essentially civil – had been found squabbling with each other, far beyond their usual catty sniping. Harry had even come upon them with wands drawn against each other. He had to admit to a certain disappointment at having interrupted, as he was quite certain that Professor McGonagall would have given far better than she got. Professor Flitwick had hexed Professor Sinistra. Professor Sprout had lost her temper against Hagrid and tipped him into a load of fresh manure he had brought from the magical creatures for the greenhouses. Hagrid had not responded but by muttering, recognizing that it must have been the effects of the curse. It seemed Hagrid, Dumbledore, Firenze, and Professor Binns were the only faculty not affected. And Professor Snape, Harry noted to himself, and although he held out the possibility that the common factor was the glasses, even though he had ruled them out because Draco Malfoy was unaffected, he also harbored his accustomed suspicions of Snape and told himself that the other unaffected teachers were simply far more spell-resistant than the others.

The self-satisfied chuckling Harry heard in his head was drumming louder and louder with each passing day. Voldemort would laugh at the students and staff of the school as they all fell apart, and would remind Harry smugly: "My legions are coming – first them, then you!"

On the last Friday afternoon in February, Harry and his best friends were the first to arrive for Melony's lecture on goblin healing techniques. The door to the lecture hall was shut but they could hear shouting, and then they saw flashes of light from under the door. Before they could even get to the room, the door was blown off the hinges with Dobby plastered against it. Dobby and the door landed across the hall and he jumped up as they heard Melony shouting something in gobbledegook, the goblin tongue. Although they could not understand the words, there was no mistaking the tone.

Dobby picked himself up and screamed, "You is nothing but a smelly, foul-tempered, grating, bloated bullfrog, you is!"

A spell the color of lava came out the door and Dobby disapparated just before it reached him. The door however was immediately incinerated. Luna, Hermione and Ginny ran into the room – cautiously – while Ron and Neville pulled their wands to extinguish the remaining embers of the door.

Harry stood looking in horror.

"I think I'm going to be sick," said Harry.

He ran off in the direction of the bathrooms. He stood in the bathroom stall for quite a while before realizing that he wasn't actually going to throw up. The pain in his stomach could not be relieved that easily. "Had it come to this?" he thought. He knew that Dobby worshipped Melony with every fiber in his body, and she in turn adored Dobby. And yet whatever it was that was tearing the school apart had even reached them.

Then Harry went wandering the most isolated parts of the castle. He knew someone would come to check on him in the bathroom before long and he did not want to be found. He wanted solitude. He was not sure where he wandered: he just made sure it was away from everyone. There were places far below even the Slytherin dorms. Harry came across magical objects that normally would have fascinated him no end, but he merely glanced at them, avoided them, and kept walking. It was hours later when he made his way to the owlery. Hedwig flew down to him and Harry began absent-mindedly stroking her, mumbling his concerns to her. He did not know how long he had been there when he heard a gentle voice.

"I hoped I'd find you here. It's not like you to miss Patronus practice. Your students were disappointed."

It was Ginny. If it had been anyone else, Harry would certainly have left. Even so, he was not keen on being interrupted.

"Whatever. How'd you find me?"

She smiled, "Process of elimination. I knew you weren't at Hagrid's because he showed up for Patronus practice. You weren't at the quidditch pitch, in the dorm or the library, the Great Hall, with Dobby or Melony or at the chapel. You hadn't summoned the Room of Requirement and you weren't in the secret passages. Sirius and Sir Cadogan searched everywhere there were portraits. I got Nearly-Headless Nick to search the dungeons, since he can go through the walls and floors so easily. That left here or the Chamber of Secrets, and Myrtle said you hadn't been through her bathroom – she seemed a bit put out."

Harry nodded. "So are people disappointed enough at my absence to stop fighting with each other?"

"You know we have no control over that. We don't even feel it coming. Of course, since it doesn't happen near you, at least not as much, maybe your pulling away isn't a great idea. Even if we can't fight as a group, we need to learn to defend ourselves."

Harry glanced toward her. "What's this 'we' stuff? You fight fine already. There aren't a dozen sorcerers who could stand against you. And over half of those who could are students or faculty here."

Ginny smiled. "Thanks. Maybe that's why I need it – so Ron or Neville can't blast me."

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Harry roared, scaring Hedwig so that she flew back up to a perch. Harry flailed his arms irately. "Voldemort won't even have to send his goons at this rate! This school will destroy itself! He'll just step in, kill me, and declare victory!"

"Dobby and Melony's fight really got to you, huh?" said Ginny quietly.

"Like nothing else has. The only two people I've ever seen who appeared to love each other as much are your parents. I thought that if anyone escaped the effects of this curse it would be them. But they weren't just arguing: she nearly toasted him! And he said things about her I never would have thought he would say. This is Dobby, for goodness' sake! He punishes himself for saying the Malfoys aren't nice people – and he was shouting insults at her!"

Harry covered his eyes as his shoulders heaved.

Ginny put her hand gently on his shoulder. "I understand, Harry. Can I help you?"

Harry turned. "You mean, with the curse?"

"Sure, that, and I think it's time you had someone to share your burdens with. I'd like to be that person, Harry."

Harry turned to look her in the eyes, but no matter how he turned or tilted his head, all he saw was the reflections off the mirrored glasses. Then he got a sad look in his eyes.

"You're already as good a friend as I have."

"Sometimes you can be very dense, Potter. I hope you know I mean more than that. I've been giving you every chance I could. I've spoken with Hermione, so I know you've said you'd like more, too. What's the problem?"

Harry turned away. "I hated the way we were this summer, when the 'relationship' thing became an issue that drove us apart. Once we got back to school, though, things started to turn around, and for months now, everything has been great. We work together in DA and quidditch really well. The Hogsmeade day was the happiest I've had in years. We do the solo training sessions in the morning together and I really look forward to those. You haven't even needed them to make up for missed DA meetings for months, but I haven't wanted to call them off."

She smiled. "And don't you think I would have stopped them if I didn't want to keep that time with you?"

"So you see it too – we get along brilliantly. We play pranks together. We tell each other jokes, even jokes that are just for us, that only we understand. You've pulled me through when I've felt like I would fall apart. You call me on it when I'm being stupid, but you do it without being cruel. That's why I haven't … done anything."

"If ever I heard a better set of reasons for a relationship, I don't know when. So what's the problem?"

"That's all so precious to me, Ginny, I wouldn't want to mess it up."

She squared off and put her fists on her hips angrily. Harry glanced back toward her and felt bad about appreciating the way the gesture set off her figure. He turned away again.

"Do I understand that you don't want a relationship because it might mess up our relationship?"

Harry looked over his shoulder, then turned his whole body most of the way toward her, and gave a weak smile.

"Well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that."

"That's because it IS stupid, Potter! Harry, I care about you, and I know you care about me. I may even love you, and not just in the way Hermione does. She says she would do anything for you, but she just means to say how loyal she is. There are things she wouldn't do for you that I think about doing all the time. I hope you know what I mean. I think you do, because I see the way you look at me. Sometimes I think that you forget: just because you can't see our eyes doesn't mean we can't see yours."

"Have I been that obvious?"

"Yes, Harry, you have."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I love it. Everyone wants to be wanted, and I know you also value me as a friend. I feel the same way. I know you want more - I feel the same way about that, too. I've ached to be in your arms. Isn't it time you came down out of the monastery?"

Harry gave her a questioning look.

She tapped his head with a finger. "In your mind, Harry, in your mind. You've been such an ascetic and so self-sacrificing. I know you have the weight of the world on your shoulders: I want to help you hold it. And goodness knows I admire the way you've been giving up everything for others around here, but there's something left there in you, isn't there, that wants – that needs - to share some things that only some one special can share with you?"

Harry looked at her and weakly nodded his admission.

She stepped close to him and in a low voice, she went on, speaking under her breath, "And aren't I that person you need to share with?"

Harry's mouth felt very dry and he tried to lick his lips as he gave a small smile acknowledging that she was right.

"I want to give you any kind of help you need, Harry, and I trust you completely to do the right thing."

And with that Ginny reached up toward her sunglasses, grasping the stems on either side. She began to remove then, but stopped. Harry's heart was racing at the prospect of Ginny removing her glasses every bit as hard as it would have been if she were about to remove everything else she had on. He was even breathing deeply.

"Only promise me one thing – that you won't give up on us, no matter how bleak things look."

Harry blinked and nodded. "I promise."

She smiled at him. "I trust you, Harry – you have the strength to do whatever is needed."

Then Ginny removed her sunglasses. Her deep brown eyes gazed gently into his green ones. Harry peered into hers, losing himself in the depths of them and the wonderment in his own mind.

"Ginny!" he gasped breathlessly.

Harry knew he should turn away or close his eyes but he couldn't. This was a vision he had craved for too long and he could not yet bear to stop it. He felt Voldemort in his mind pressing as forcefully as he could to make Harry read her thoughts, but Harry was armed with the strength of Ginny's trust in him, so he easily resisted. Nothing could make Harry betray that trust. Harry took her in his arms, holding her close. She had to wriggle her arms a bit to bring hers up around him. They stood in the owlery like that for many minutes.

Finally Harry said softly, "I've waited so long to look into those eyes, and now, all I can think of is to close mine."

"Why is that, Harry?"

"It's better for kissing."

"I've always thought so. May I join you?"

"I think you should."

"Right then."

And they both closed their eyes and began tenderly to kiss. They lost track of time until the eleven o'clock bells rang.

Harry paused, gazing into her eyes. "Are you sure you want to get mixed up with me?"

"I don't think I've ever really had a choice, but if I could choose, I would – wholeheartedly. And you?"

"My only reluctance is that I don't want to drag you into any greater danger. You're a fool, Weasley, but since you don't seem to have enough sense to run away, we'll just have to deal with it. Everything already seems easier, though, not feeling like I'm carrying it all alone."

"You can always count on your friends to be with you, Harry."

"Lately I can't even count on them not to put each other in hospital."

"Well, let's see if we can't figure something out about that - together."

Ginny started to put the sunglasses back on, but Harry caught her arm.

"Not yet."

She smiled up at him. "Okay, Harry, but we can't stay away too long – we have to be in the dorm by midnight, you know, and I've had my share of detentions."

They spent the hour together in the owlery, holding each other, nuzzling each other, talking about just the two of them, gazing into each other's eyes. When they realized their time was nearly up, Harry tilted his head to touch his forehead to hers. "Will I be able to see you without your glasses again?"

"No one must ever know. Everyone is sick of them, and I'm a prefect after all, and you're … well, you're the reason everyone's supposed to have them in the first place. But if we can get somewhere that we're sure we won't be caught, then I'll want them off as much as you do, Harry – I don't want anything between us." Then she gave a coy smile and added mischievously, "And I'm not just talking about sunglasses."

"We don't have to sneak around about being a couple, do we?"

Ginny giggled. "No, you won't hear of me keeping us a secret. Shouting for joy is more like it – I can hardly believe I was letting such juvenile 'issues' keep us apart earlier. I'm just glad that I woke up to how much it hurts me to see you hurting."

Harry slipped his arm around her, and she put her arm around his waist, as they drew close to each other and headed down the stairs of the tower.


	46. War Games

Chapter 46 War Games

As the portrait of the Fat Lady let them into the Gryffindor common room, which they found already empty, Harry said, "You know, it occurs to me that we had better let Ron and Hermione know. They both get so worked up over whatever happens with either of us."

"That's true. Tell you what, I'll get Ron and you get Hermione and we'll meet back here to tell them together."

"What?" startled Harry, uncomfortable at the thought of Ginny going through the boys' dorms to get Ron at this hour. Then the flickering candlelight revealed her mischievous smile. "Erm, yeah, you know, I can't go up the stairs for the girls' dorms. Maybe you should get Hermione and I'll get Ron."

Harry woke Ron up when he got back to the dorm. He didn't want anything to go awry and he knew how protective Ron was about his little sister.

"Mmf. Gerof me, Harry, there's quidditch in the morning,"

"Yeah, but not us; that'll be Slytherin and Hufflepuff."

"Well, we still have to get up in a few hours to run."

"This won't take long. Come down to the Common Room with me to talk so we don't disturb the others."

"Too late," mumbled Dean, throwing his souvenir West Ham football pillow at them.

"All right, Harry, all right," groaned Ron, standing up and pulling on a bathrobe, which he failed to tie.

Ron stumbled down the stairs with Harry and they emerged into the common room only to find Ginny dragging Hermione out.

Ginny giggled at Ron's dishevelment. "Right, aren't they a cheery lot?"

"You reckon they'll even remember this in the morning, Ginny?"

"As long as we've told them, the rest is their problem."

Hermione yawned and leaned sleepily against the arm of a chair near the fireplace. Ron stretched as he walked over to the same chair and gave her a brief kiss – at least he tried, but they missed each other. He flopped into the chair and laid his arm across Hermione's lap and around her waist.

"Okay, ya got us up," he mumbled. "What's up? Didja discover a new use for dragon dung?"

"No, not that," said Harry. He glanced nervously at Ginny, who nodded to him to go on. "We're a couple."

Hermione yawned again. "A couple of what?"

"A couple!" he reiterated, "together! Like you and – No, we're not like you two, at least not yet."

"We'd better not be like that anytime soon, Potter," warned Ginny mockingly.

"Can it be just six months ago I thought they were such a romantic couple?"

"We're romantic," mumbled Hermione, "when we're not asleep."

"Yeah," agreed Ron, leaning his head back against the back of the chair and starting to breathe deeply.

"If you haven't noticed," slurred Hermione, "we have been a bit busy lately. And we _were_ asleep."

"Ick, I hope we don't become a couple like that," laughed Ginny.

"We're romantic," said Hermione again, as if she hadn't already said so, "and we're very happy for you. Really."

Hermione slumped backward over the arm of the chair, sliding onto Ron's lap. Instinctively she snuggled against his body, with the fingers of her right hand sliding against his chest and becoming meshed into his wavy red chest hair, as he wrapped his other arm around her. They both fell comfortably asleep in the chair.

"Mind you," said Harry, "it wouldn't be all bad."

"They do look very content like that. It seems a shame to wake them."

"Yeah, they're fine where they are. We'll get them up for the morning run."

Harry looked at Hermione's left hand hanging out over the top of the armchair. Suddenly he started stroking his chin and got a mischievous look in his eye.

Ginny grinned. "You look like you're ready for a prank."

"Well, in my muggle life, kids always said that if you put someone's hand in a bowl of warm water while they're asleep, it'll make 'em pee in their sleep."

"Did it work?"

"I never tried it."

"There's one way to find out."

"It'd be sort of a research project."

"Oh, absolutely. Besides, I couldn't face Fred and George again if we passed on this opportunity."

"I'll bring the table over. Ginny, you get some warm water in a bowl."

Ginny found a bowl and poured some water from a pitcher. She used her wand to warm it as Harry slid a tall table under Hermione's hand.

"Why her?" asked Ginny.

"Two for one – she's sitting on top of him."

They gently raised Hermione's hand and slid the bowl underneath, then lowered the hand down into it. They had trouble stifling their giggles.

"How long do we wait?" asked Ginny.

"I don't really know. It can't be too long or the water won't stay warm. I think I'd rather be safe in bed before anything happens, though."

"Good idea. They may not even figure things out that way."

They stepped quietly over to the entrance to the stairs for the girls' dorms. They wrapped their arms around each other again, and shared a lingering kiss.

"I can't take the sunglasses off here, Harry, but consider yourself winked at," she whispered

"Wink received," he said, and winked back. Then each went up to their respective dorms.

March is reputed to come in like a lion, and so it did, with a driving sleety rain to greet the students for their morning run. Many students grumbled as they stepped out into it, but Harry and Ginny met it with the hearts of Gryffindor lions. They set a hard pace to keep up with and laughed that the faster everyone ran, the sooner they could be in warm showers. From Harry's viewpoint, the weather also had the salutary effect of suppressing the outbreaks of discord between the students: they all just kept their heads down and ran in a long line. All, that is, except Harry and Ginny, who ran side-by-side smiling the whole way, splashing through the ice cold muddy puddles without hesitation. They were well into their morning training session before most of the others even finished their run.

After quick showers, Harry and Ginny went to breakfast together, still feeling giddy. They sat very close to each other, exchanging glances frequently – as well as the sunglasses would allow – and small surreptitious touches. They had for some time shared little jokes, born of the private training sessions they had shared, but now it was more pronounced and the jokes tickled them more.

"What is UP with you two?" asked Ron, peevishly. "Did you have an accident with Cheering Charms?"

"Oh, you were out of it last night, weren't you, Ron?" said Hermione, with a very superior and smug smile. "They woke us up to tell us they're a couple now."

"Is that how we ended up down in the Common Room? But why were we …"

"Shhhh" hushed Hermione sharply, as Harry and Ginny glanced at each other and suppressed laughter, causing Hermione to eye them suspiciously. "Yes, apparently they decided we should be left in the chair."

"Well, how'm I supposed to remember? A guy needs his rest, you know. Okay, then, congratulations!" he said happily.

"You aren't going to threaten me now, Ron?" teased Harry.

"Why?" said Ron, raising an eyebrow. "Has something happened I should threaten you over?"

"Like what?" said Ginny, challenging him to suggest something.

"Never mind," mumbled Ron.

"Do any of you know how Melony and Dobby are?" asked Harry.

"Why?" asked Hermione.

Harry rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Do you even remember the awful fight they had before the lecture?"

Hermione tapped her lip as she looked off, trying to remember. "No, not really. Dobby was there before the lecture, wasn't he? But he didn't stay – I think he had to be someplace else."

"Okay, Hermione," said Harry, his voice showing tension, "let me put this in a way where I can get the information I want. Have you seen them together since the lecture?"

"Oh, sure," said Hermione. "They took a moonlight stroll and were all lovey-dovey. She's due in a month, you know."

"I know. Let's just hope they both make it that long," grumbled Harry. Then he turned to Ron. "Talk of a birth reminds me: Happy Birthday, mate."

Ron grinned, "Thanks, Harry."

"It's not his birthday" sniffed Hermione.

"It most certainly is – the day after February 28," said Ginny.

"Nope – his birthday's the day before March," said Hermione.

"Oh, yeah?" said Ron. "Then why didncha do anything for me yesterday."

"Ron, I thought I had," said Hermione under her breath, "Don't you even remember last night at all?"

Ron blushed and all those who heard giggled.

Harry said, "Ah, well, maybe it's me - as Hermione's surrogate brother - who ought to be threatening you. Weasley: what, exactly, ARE your intentions with our Hermione?"

"Shut up, Harry."

"No, Ron, I'd like to know," said Hermione. "What are your intentions with me?"

Ron got a devilish grin and leaned over to whisper in her ear. Hermione giggled. "Ooh, that's good for the short term. We'll talk more later."

There was some time between breakfast and the quidditch game for some library time. Before that, Harry called Professor Dumbledore on the mirror and explained his new observations about the curse. He also explained his new relationship with Ginny and asked to have her added to the Restricted Section permission. Dumbledore beamed with pleasure as Harry told him about Ginny and encouraged persistence with both endeavours: research and romance.

At the game, which promised to be a long affair due to the difficult visibility and winds, Harry and Ginny found themselves boxed in by Ron, Hermione and Ernie McMillan. At first they chatted nicely about quidditch, but then it occurred to Harry that during a Hufflepuff game Ernie ought normally be with his house.

"Ernie, I enjoy the talk, but aren't you supposed to be with your house's section cheering on your team?"

"Well, yeah, I'll get over there. We just, ah, needed to square some things away with you."

"And this is the best opportunity to talk?"

"Yeah, it's harder for you to get away," said Ernie, glancing over toward Ron and Hermione, "Harry, it's about the Spring Skirmish."

Harry tensed up. He had not been aware of any talk of repeating last spring's training game, in which the DA's teams had been divided into opposing armies and staged a battle.

"I didn't think the DA would want to do it again this year."

"Oh, but Harry, it was great practice. Remember how well we were prepared for the Battle of Gringott's last year? We learned a lot about placement and discipline and avoiding each other's spells."

"Yeah, Harry," added Ron, "there's been a lot of talk about doing it again. Everybody's looking forward to it."

"Not EVERYbody!" said Harry. "I'm a bit frustrated with unhexing so many of you. And if there's been so much talk about it, why haven't I heard about it until now." Then he turned to Ginny, "_You_ must have known about this, too."

Ginny smiled coquettishly. "Haven't we had other things to talk about, Harry?"

Harry grinned. "Okay, that works for you, Ginny. What about the rest of you?"

"There are reasons. For one thing," said Ernie, "Spring Skirmish is an opportunity to work on strategy and tactics. You've been kept out of those matters because of your … connection."

"Yeah, go ahead and say it - Voldemort," said Harry.

"Also, Harry," added Ron, "we figured you'd get upset because of this weird notion you have about us not being able to get along together."

"WEIRD NOTION?" Harry shouted and then caught himself. "It's no weird notion! I wish a muggle camcorder would work around Hogwarts so I could show you what's been going on."

"Ron, it's real," said Ginny. "I see some of it too. It's like some sort of spell on the school or something that keeps you from seeing what you're doing."

"Sure, she'd say it now!" said Ernie sarcastically. "Supporting her boyfriend."

Ginny rose in her place into a battle stance, turned toward Ernie, and put her hand toward her wand. "Head Boy or not," she snarled, "I'll duel you if you don't take that back. I'm my own person no matter who I'm with!"

Ernie seemed to be sizing up his chances before Hermione intervened. "Ernie, your apology shouldn't be based on whether you can duel her – you were wrong. She's been saying there's something to it for months."

Ernie rose as well and reached toward his wand pocket, but held off withdrawing it. "Maybe she has, but it's beyond the words now. I'm not taking guff off of the likes of her."

The stands around them cleared as the students saw a battle shaping up. Only Hermione, Ron and Harry stayed put, and while Hermione and Ron looked concerned, Harry calmly returned to watching the quidditch game. Hagrid stepped over the seats from the top of the stands and stepped between them.

"Do we have a problem here?" Hagrid asked pointedly.

Ernie and Ginny glared a few more seconds at each other and then turned their heads up toward Hagrid, relaxing their stances.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid," said Ginny. "Come to sit with the students for the game?"

Hagrid's eyebrows shifted from their stern inwardly slanted posture to a questioning upward slant. He turned to Harry, who shrugged in response.

"Let's just enjoy the game, then," he said, "And keep those wands where they b'long."

"Right-o, Hagrid!" called Ernie. "Thanks for stopping by!"

"That was unpleasant," said Hermione, as the students began returning to their places uneasily.

"What was?" said Harry.

"Harry, were you not even going to step in to protect Ginny?" asked Hermione.

"From what?"

"Ooh!" gasped Hermione exasperatedly. "Were you not even aware that she almost got into a duel with Ernie?"

"Hmm. Did something happen?"

"Don't you care? Didn't you even notice?"

Harry looked her in the eye. "Now you get an idea how frustrating it is to have people deny what I can so easily see. Of course I was aware. I would have blocked any dangerous spells, but I can't intervene in every fight, not even Ginny's."

"Well, I like that!" exclaimed Ginny.

Harry explained matter-of-factly. "I can't be around all the time, Ginny. If you're going to get into fights, you'll have to settle them. If your idea of being a couple is just to enlist me as a second for dueling, count me out."

She looked at him, measuring his words, and then she snuggled close to him. "You would have at least stopped dangerous spells?"

He smiled and nodded. "Or disfiguring ones. Now how about the game – there've been two goals scored since you stopped watching it."

"Oh, yeah?" said Ernie, as if nothing had happened. "Hufflepuff?"

"So what about the Spring Skirmish, Harry?" asked Ron.

"What about it? You have plans already, don't you? You don't need my blessing. I'm just the coach, not the boss."

"Now, Harry," said Hermione soothingly, "you say it's okay but your tone betrays annoyance."

"I suppose I am," said Harry. "It's really not that I'm out of the loop – I've gotten used to so much training being out of my ken. This is just a bigger version of what you do out of my sight at DA meetings. What really gets to me is the enormous opportunity this presents for you people to injure each other. We had dozens of injuries last year that couldn't be fixed on the field, and that was when you weren't under a spell making you hurt each other. But now you are, you only seem to get along when I'm around, and I'm the one person you cannot allow to be around! Of course, that doesn't seem to do much good anymore. This has disaster written all over it."

"Okay, Harry," said Ernie, "even IF this spell-thing you talk about exists …"

Harry glared at him so fiercely he quailed. "Okay, okay, even WITH this spell affecting us, we have to do our best to be prepared. You say his forces are preparing to attack. We need to do what we can to prepare to respond – even if there are a few risks."

"There'll be casualties," said Harry.

"Everyone knows that, Harry. There were last year, too. Sometimes people get hurt when they are forced to defend themselves." Then Ernie's voice took on a quieter, darker tone. "Personally, I've seen what happens to those who aren't ready to fight. I'll take my chances fighting back rather than waiting to die."

Harry looked long at Ernie, remembering how intensely his mother getting the dementor's kiss had affected him and his father.

"Right then. You'll have your Skirmish and I'll keep out of the way. But YOU," he said turning and pointing to Hermione, "are going to assemble the best team of referees and de-hexers that can be spared."

Hermione smiled sweetly, "That's already in the works, Harry."

"Have fun, then – knock yourselves out. I just wish that was only a figure of speech."

Ron watched the progression of the quaffle for a few seconds, before adding in an attempt at sounding casual, "So where will you go then, Harry?"

"I don't know, right off. The library, I guess. Maybe the chapel and the dorm part of the time."

"Erm …"

"What!"

"Well, part of the plan is defending the castle itself. We were hoping you would leave Hogwarts for the week altogether."

"NO, nothing doing! I need that time for research and I was going to double up on counseling sessions with Cameron – I can't afford to be away that whole week! Forget it!"

"But, Harry, we…"

Hermione gently interrupted Ron, "No, Ron, we've already pushed Harry to go along with a lot. We can work around this. We'll just have to set boundaries and let Harry know what they are. Will that work for you, Harry?"

"I reckon, so long as I can go to the library and the dorm. Cameron can meet me at one of those."

"Then it's settled."

Ernie returned to the Hufflepuff section and they enjoyed another three and a half hours watching quidditch in the sleet and rain and wind. Only a true fan can explain how such miserable conditions actually enhance the experience, but that's generally true of outdoor winter sports, like American football, hockey (on outdoor rinks) and quidditch. Of course, it helps if you are with your new girlfriend and can regularly duck under the stands with her and get warmed up. This presented a grueling dilemma, as neither Ginny nor Harry were keen on missing too much of the game, but getting warmed up was very nice as well.


	47. Invitation

Chapter 47 Invitation

The next Friday the weather had brightened up and gotten more pleasant. The run was still quite cold, but that just kept anyone from overheating. At breakfast Harry and his friends were talking about how NEWTS would be administered when the owl delivery came.

Ginny pointed up, "Ron, cover! It's Errol!"

They both spread their arms and protected their breakfast plates from the ever-errant Errol. Harry was used to Errol making his awkward approaches and flopping in front of Ron or Ginny, so he watched calmly as Errol dove down to the table and then instead plopped hard into Harry's breakfast, splattering him with eggs, juice and porridge.

Harry groaned and sighed, as he wiped himself. "Ron, when are your parents ever going to get another bird and give this one a rest? Your father's appointment to Minister of Magic is to be made official in a little over two months: they could afford an owl, for goodness sake."

"Don't you prefer a thrifty Minister?" said Hermione. "From what I've read in the Daily Prophet, he's cut lots of expenses of the Ministry to provide the additional security services needed for the war."

"I reckon, but that won't stop me from giving them an owl as a congratulatory present when he gets appointed. Let's see: it's your mother's handwriting. I wonder which of you the letter's for," said Harry.

After Harry detached the letter from Errol's leg, Hermione scooped up the flaccid Errol and began cleaning the breakfast from his feathers. Harry wiped the egg yolk off the parchment before checking the addressee.

"What? That's odd, it's for me."

"Well, I like that!" said Ron, as Harry opened and scanned the letter. "You take up with Ginny and she forgets her own children!"

"Laugh all you want, Ron; I could do without this letter. She and your Dad are inviting Ginny and me to spend Spring Break with them at Grimmauld Place."

"Well, if you don't want to go," said Hermione, "just write them back and say so. I'm sure they'll be very understanding."

Harry glanced over at Ginny, who had her arms crossed and was scowling intensely.

"Yeah, I know, Ginny," he said, "that really is not one of the options. This is an invite in form only. There's not much chance of me being able to wriggle out of this."

"Oh, Harry, what's the problem?" said Ginny, her countenance brightening. "You like my parents just fine."

"Oh, it's not that, by any means. They're two of my favorite people. In fact, if we're ever all past this war, I'd kind of like to call them Mum and Dad. I've always wanted to be able to call somebody that, and mean it, and nobody feels more like that to me than they do. Do you think that would be okay?"

"More than okay, mate. They'd love it," said Ron. "They've said for a long time they consider you one of their own."

"I know. It's more soothing than murtlap. But don't say anything to them. I'll ask them when the time's right for me, alright?" replied Harry. "No, the problem isn't being with them in the abstract. It's the timing. So soon after Ginny and I have started dating – it's got to be their way of checking up on us and giving us a bit of a warning about controlling ourselves."

"Like those two should complain," laughed Ginny. "I've heard some stories from our older cousins about how they were when they were at Hogwarts."

"Maybe that's why they're worried," said Hermione.

Harry nodded. "Hm. But also I really wanted the library time."

"Maybe you don't really have to give that up though, Harry," said Hermione, "Hogwarts' library isn't the only one in the wizarding world. The Blacks had a very extensive Dark Arts library. I believe Mrs. Weasley kept the books, just in case there was a need for such research. We were only disposing of dangerous objects, not the books – they didn't have such dangerous enchantments on them they couldn't be kept or the enchantments disabled. And I think they had some volumes that even Hogwarts doesn't have."

"Well, a house with Dark Arts books known to Bellatrix may be just the place to look for what we need. What about it, Ginny, up for some library time in London?"

"Here, there, wherever – as long as we're working on it together," she said with a sweet smile while giving his arm a squeeze.

Behind her back, Neville pantomimed sticking a finger down his throat and gagging. Harry laughed and hit him with a lump of Stilton.

"Right then, that's settled. We're going."

Harry took out a quill and started jotting down an acceptance for Errol to take back.

"Hey, mate, put down that Hermione and I are coming, too," said Ron.

"Uh-uh. You're not invited and she makes clear that she wants you two to stay here and prepare for NEWTs. Besides, aren't you going to be leading part of the troops in the Spring Screw-up?"

"That's 'Skirmish', Harry" said Ron, as Harry shrugged, "but you're right. I wonder why she doesn't care about your NEWTs."

"She knows I'm using Voldemort's learning and just adding the recent developments. It's a good thing, too, or I wouldn't have a chance to research the spell."

"Harry," said Hermione thoughtfully, "doesn't Voldemort at least know who among his people is doing it?"

"Uh-uh! In fact he's avoiding face time with them deliberately. He doesn't want to accidentally allow his use of legilemency to let me see into their thoughts to see how to beat it. And he learned the lesson from Kreacher's treachery two years ago, that it may be the most seemingly-innocuous facts that let the other side know a vulnerability, so he's taking no chances on being around any of them. Anyone who visits him stays behind a curtain so I can't find out anything. It's pretty much like with you people wearing the shades. He's thrilled with what's going on, but he has no idea who's doing it, or how, or anything else about it. He figures somebody among the Death Eaters got the bright idea, and he's not going to mess it up by letting me see them through him."

"That's funny," said Neville. "Both you and he are kind of isolated from your supporters by the fact that you can look through each other's minds. I'll bet that freaks him out to not be in control."

"Yeah, it's hard on him, even more than me. I could do without control, if I could just beat this spell - that and look you all in the eyes. It's like being in a prison and only talking to people through those thick glass barriers. Oh, well."

Spring Break was the first week of April. The four weeks preceding it passed remarkably well for Harry. Not that things were any better around Hogwarts – quite the contrary. He often felt like the character in old muggle movies who walks through a construction site or other busy area while all sorts of disasters and near disasters are happening, but they don't quite touch him. And he also still felt Voldemort prodding and pushing within his mind; but responding to that had become habitual.

Training went very well in March. Harry had redoubled energy and enthusiasm now that he had someone special in his life. Every DA session brought new breakthroughs in spellcasting and defensive techniques. Harry pushed hard, but everyone understood it was so they would be prepared for the looming battle. Harry's happiness, even amid the gathering clouds, carried through to all those around him. By the end of the month, nearly all the fifth years and higher had tested their patronuses and almost half the third and fourth years had as well. If only they could work together, they would be an awesome defensive force, but Harry accepted that until he and Ginny could come up with a solution, the students were going to be squabbling. At least he would see to it that individually they were as prepared as the time available would allow.

Nonetheless, Harry was far less perturbed by all that was going on because Ginny was helping him both with solving the problem and with keeping a healthy perspective. When Harry would start to lose patience with people who got involved in fights, she would remind him that they just weren't in control.

"You wouldn't get angry with a baby for its messes and tantrums, would you? It's just doing what it has to – it's not being bad."

This would bring Harry around, along with an affectionate squeeze or stroking his back.

This argument was impressed on Harry particularly in the last week of March when Melony and Dobby's baby was born. Hermione and Madam Pomfrey assisted the goblin healer who came to help with the delivery. When Harry first saw it a couple of hours later, it took his breath away. It had to be the ugliest thing he had ever seen: scrawny, pea-soup-green, with spongy-looking nodules all over, it had huge bulging eyeballs that retracted into the skull on the rare occasions it blinked (and this would cause its throat to swell like a tree toad's), and its skin was both raspy and slimy like a sick cat's tongue. But Dobby and Melony were thrilled, so Harry assumed this was the way it was supposed to be.

Even at this age, Dobby and Melony's goblet was squalling like a dozen car alarms going off at once, and its parents were so proud that it was working on strong lungs and a good scratchy goblin voice. Harry and Ginny couldn't talk over the screaming, so when they were ready to leave they motioned for Dobby to come out into the hall with them.

"Dobby, I'm so happy for you and Melony," said Harry.

"Yes, but I missed whether it was a boy or a girl," said Ginny.

"We hasn't decided yet, Miss Weasley," said Dobby.

"What?" asked Harry. "You decide it?"

"Well, we can let it just develop and the temperature of the castle will determine it, or if we wants to choose, we can keep the baby warmer for a girl or cooler for a boy."

"Oh," said Harry, having a bit of trouble comprehending that. "Well, the baby seems so healthy."

"HEALTHY?" yelled Dobby at Harry. "Healthy? That's a word humans use when they can't say anything nice. Oh, I've heard it, alright. A young lady is three hundred pounds with a face like a troll, and people say 'oh, she looks so healthy!' It's something to say instead of the truth! Well, who needs you, Harry Potter? If you hates goblets you shouldn't have come around! Good day!"

Then Dobby walked back into their quarters and slammed the door. Harry stared with his mouth open.

Ginny squeezed his hand. "It's the curse, Harry, not him. You know he would never say those things on his own. Remember what he was like other times, like when he roomed with you two summers ago."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out, then hugged Ginny.

"It's worse than the fact that he was short-tempered. Up until now, the curse hasn't made people treat me that way, and usually not even act that way around me. I had hoped that if nothing else worked, I could take direct command of the students and the curse would be suppressed while we defended ourselves. That was one of the big hazards that Voldemort feared as well. But the curse is apparently growing stronger, and we can't even count on my presence to suppress it. We're vulnerable, Ginny, very, very vulnerable. We've got to find a way to put an end to this spell, Ginny. It's up to us."

"I know, sweety. We will."


	48. Meet the Parents

Chapter 48 Meet the Parents

Training went very well in March. Harry had redoubled energy and enthusiasm now that he had someone special in his life. Every DA session brought new breakthroughs in spellcasting and defensive techniques. Harry pushed hard, but everyone understood it was so they would be prepared for the looming battle. Harry's happiness, even amid the gathering clouds, carried through to all those around him. By the end of the month, nearly all the fifth years and higher had tested their patronuses and almost half the third and fourth years had as well. If only they could work together, they would be an awesome defensive force, but Harry accepted that until he and Ginny could come up with a solution, the students were going to be squabbling. At least he would see to it that individually they were as prepared as the time available would allow.

Finally, March came to an end and it was time for Harry and Ginny to visit Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny had passed her Apparation test, with both inanimate objects and creatures, as was expected with someone who took to a broom as well as she did. They stayed until after the Friday evening Patronus session, then picked up their bags and got far enough away from the castle for apparation. The charms on the castle itself prevented sorcerer apparition within and in its immediate surroundings, of course, but after a moderate distance, the grounds were free of the enchantment.

"Ready?" asked Harry, holding Ginny's hand.

"Ready," she replied, giving his hand a squeeze. "Are you sure you're okay - you seem a little nervous?"

"I am," he answered. "It was one thing to be around them when I was just a friend of the family, but I am a bit nervous meeting them as 'Ginny's boyfriend.'"

Ginny laughed. "You needn't be nervous, you silly. You know they love you already."

"Perhaps that's it. I don't even doubt they would continue to love me even if something came between you and me, but things would certainly be very strained."

Ginny let go of her trunk and turned to him and held him close.

"I don't want to hear of anything coming between us. You promise me that if there's ever anything about us that's on your mind, you'll talk it over with me as soon as possible, and I'll do the same with you. And I'll promise to do my best not to go into any sort of emotional tantrums over anything you tell me. We can work anything out if we keep our wits about us, okay?"

"Okay, I promise," said Harry, "I'll let no rifts grow between us." He bent down a bit and kissed her. "Time to go."

They let go of each other so that slight differences in timing wouldn't cause them to splinch each other. They counted to three and apparated to the sidewalk in front of the Black home at Grimmauld Place, for the time being the Acting Minister of Magic's residence.

Harry looked up at the façade, got a grim look on his face, and shuddered. Ginny took his hand and squeezed it again. "Problem, Harry?"

"I'm remembering being here two years ago. That was such a dark time. No one but my friends and the Order believed me, I wasn't really focused on what I had to do, and I was still not really able to deal with Voldemort's return."

"And of course, this house brings back memories of the living Sirius."

Harry nodded. "Him, and the mistakes I made that led to his death."

"Then it's time you sorted those feelings out - with people who love you."

Harry turned to her. "I know the way your parents love me, and I love them, too. But," he hesitated, then took a deep breath, "I love you in a much different way, Ginny."

She gave a small gasp, and then smiled. "Do you, sweety? I love you, too. I am so glad I put aside the silliness."

"We both needed to be sure how we felt. It's alright. Now, let's go on in before they come drag us in."

They were surprised not to see aurors or other security around as they approached the door, but then, this house was protected by a Fidelius Charm with Dumbledore as secret-keeper. They knocked and within seconds the door flew open. They were set upon by Mrs. Weasley, who smothered them both in hugs and kisses. It took some getting used to seeing Molly Weasley in wrap-around mirrored sunglasses. Harry noticed as Ginny was struggling to survive the onslaught how similar mother and daughter were: though Ginny was lean and muscular, partly from youth and not having borne children, and partly from the athletics and training which were such a large part of her life, Harry could see the great similarity in proportion, frame and face. That was just fine by Harry, as he regarded Mrs. Weasley so fondly, and had a healthy envy for Mr. Weasley's family life.

"Come in, come in" she bubbled, "No problem getting here, I guess."

"How could there be, Mum?" said Ginny, as if her mother were daft. "We apparated."

"Did Harry take you or - you passed your exam, didn't you, Ginny?"

Ginny grinned. "You already knew about my biggest surprise; I had to save something."

"That's wonderful, dear. I guess that practice with Harry this summer paid off."

Ginny blushed. "I, erm, wasn't paying too much attention to the lessons, Mum. I was too busy being mad at Harry for receiving other girls' attention."

"Oh, goodness, Ginny, with all the work you children have been doing, I sometimes forget that you're still a teenager, particularly emotionally. How could you expect that Harry would not receive attention?"

"I didn't say I was rational, I said I was mad, ..."

"... and emotion does not know reason," interrupted Mr. Weasley, hugging his only daughter warmly, "as I have often warned you, Pumpkin. It's so good to see you, Ginny. I've missed you awfully."

When Arthur Weasley finally let go of Ginny, he turned to Harry, who extended his hand. Arthur smiled and shook his head and gave Harry a bear hug instead. "All my boys get hugs, not handshakes."

Harry hugged him back, so grateful to be welcomed as one of the Weasleys' own, and they exchanged solid enough thumps on their backs to make it a proper guys' hug.

"Welcome, Harry, it's so good to have you here."

"Well, it's great to see you and Mrs. Weasley. Being here in this house is not so good, but it's the folks inside that make the home."

"Exactly, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, "and with the time I've had around here, I've been able to lift much of the morbid air that hung round the place. Let me show you the changes."

"Tell me first," said Harry nervously, "you haven't touched the library, have you?"

"Not the books or the shelves, but it's no longer decorated in body parts and portraits of dark sorcerers. Don't worry, Dumbledore told us from the beginning to keep the books, and he told us just recently that you would want to spend time with them. I've even taken that as a motivation to label all the books that are booby-trapped with enchantments so that you'll know how to safely use them. Now come along to see the place and then we'll have tea."

"Or maybe something a bit more soothing," said Mr. Weasley, with a wink.

Much more so than two years earlier, the place had been transformed. The dark and often grim tapestries and paintings had been eliminated, sometimes by removing the face of the wall. While exposed wood was left alone, with a new coat of varnish or other sealant where needed, the painted surfaces were made much lighter. Likewise for the rugs, which were laid over resurfaced wood floors. The curtains were much lighter, and as Harry discovered during the subsequent days, allowed ample light to seep through - so much so that Harry suspected that they had been enchanted to amplify the prevailing exterior light. If this were so, then this was the sort of enchantment this house could well do with, Harry decided. The only rooms that seemed to have changed little were the library, which was nearly all paneled in English Oak, and the kitchen, which had always had a hominess that belied the evil air the rest of the house bore. Buckbeak, he was told, had recovered from his injuries, and had been taken out to The Burrow, once Arthur had pushed through a pardon, and Winky was taking care of him, where he was doing a wonderful job keeping the garden gnomes at bay.

The biggest surprise for Harry was when they came across Kreacher. Visibly older and more gnarled, as if the destruction of the things that made this the house he had known so long were so much destruction of him as well. The brightening of the house's aspect, however, seemed to have had the opposite effect on Kreacher. Harry first saw him huddled in a corner near the boiler, the area of the house which maintained the unfriendliness he had preferred.

When Kreacher saw them, he hissed like a feral beast, "So my mistress's house is again invaded by one of the young blood traitors and the half-breed. Oh, these are bad days indeed."

Harry was so taken aback at the sight, like one would be finding a rat in one's pantry, that he hadn't a chance to register his emotions before Mr. Weasley replied.

"You'll speak civilly to your master, unless you want punishment."

"What?" asked Harry, looking at Ginny, who shrugged.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, it hadn't been explained to you yet because of the terms of Sirius's will. All Sirius's property had been left to you, including the house. You are to come into actual possession when you turn 21; until then, Dumbledore and I are trustees, with the house particularly to be held for Order business until the War is over. Dumbledore suggested that the best use of the House for the present was as our London residence, since we would be likely targets of attack since I became acting Minister of Magic. Oh, and Sirius set aside a special fund, instructing Molly to use it to make this a fit habitation for decent sorcerers."

"So, I am to become HIS master?" said Harry, nodding toward Kreacher.

"Actually, you already are, although, as trustee over the house, my orders must be obeyed as well. I must warn you, though, Harry, as we learned a couple years ago, it is important to word what you say as clearly and beyond interpretation as possible. He takes great pains to be as contrary as possible. Think through anything you say to him carefully."

Harry was appalled to think that he was now Kreacher's master. Harry didn't want to own a house elf, and if he must, this would be the last one he would have wanted. Looking at this surly, half-crazed old elf brought back all of Kreacher's awful behavior from 2 years earlier and most especially the treachery which resulted in the death of Sirius Black: his own master and Harry's godfather. Anger surged within Harry. Ginny must have felt the tension, or maybe she just understood how Harry would feel at this moment, for she reached over, found his hand, and gave it a squeeze. Still, it would have been easy for Harry to simply kill Kreacher right then and there and he was fairly certain there would have been no legal consequences. But he could not bring himself to do so. Instead he addressed Kreacher.

"Kreacher, do you recognize me as your master?"

Kreacher hissed like a cornered raccoon, but then lowered his head and acknowledged him. "Yes, master."

"And you will do as I instruct you?"

"Yes, Master," he said as he smiled cunningly, which put Harry to caution.

"Until I tell you otherwise, you are not to refer to anyone as blood traitor, mudblood, or halfblood or words of similar intent. You will treat me, all the Weasleys, and any of our guests with courtesy. Before entering any room in this house, you will knock sufficiently to attract attention but not so loudly as to be a nuisance and you will wait for permission to be granted before entering. If the door is open, you may look inside and if it is unoccupied you may enter to perform the duties of maintaining this house. This house shall be maintained so as to be pleasing to the Weasleys and myself. If any person enters a room you are already in, you will make your presence known by saying courteously 'Welcome, sir' to men or boys, and 'Welcome, maam' to women, and Welcome, Miss,' to girls. Are those instructions understood?"

Kreacher glowered at Harry, but replied, "Yes, sir."

"Oh, and you are not to leave the premises except as explicitly instructed by Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, myself or Professor Dumbledore, and you are then only to go places that you have been explicitly told to go. You will not go to any place outside this house that has not been specifically told to you to go to. Understand?"

"Yes, ... Master."

"Mr. Weasley, do you think those will do for now?" asked Harry.

Arthur nodded. "Yes, very good, Harry. You would be surprised, though. With sufficiently precise directions he can still be useful. We carefully instructed him on sanding down and resurfacing the floors and you saw what a nice job he did."

Molly agreed. "He still worships the house, even if he only grudgingly accepts our presence. So you've seen it all now. I hope you approve of the changes we've made so far to your house."

"'MY house.' Let's let that idea sink in a while. I'm not too comfortable yet with that concept. But I do wholeheartedly endorse its present use."

"Good, Harry," said Arthur, clapping and rubbing his hands together, "then let's all see about a late beverage in the kitchen."

Ginny put on a posh accent. "That would be just grand, Pa-pa."

Harry echoed her tone. "Oh, yes, Minister, that would be simply smashing. We would be ever at your service."

"Oh, my," laughed Mrs. Weasley, "seeing you two happy enough to be playful is the best tonic I've had in a long time."


	49. Spring Break with the Weasleys

Chapter 49 – Spring Break with the Weasleys

Saturday, since a morning run was out of the question, Harry and Ginny allowed themselves to sleep in until 6 a.m. before heading to the gym Mr. Weasley had installed in the basement. It was quite a simple set-up – a stair climber and stationary bike, a rowing machine, wall mounted pulleys, and free weights with stands. They locked the door so that Ginny could remove her glasses without her parents or even Kreacher knowing. When Harry first tried the stair climber, he wondered why it did not work quite as smoothly as the ones at Hogwarts' gym did, and then he saw that there was an actual electric cord attached and plugged into a wall outlet. Then he started looking around and saw various scars in the wall where someone had very clumsily tried to drill holes to place the screws to attach pieces of equipment.

"Look at that, Ginny," said Harry pointing to the marks. "You reckon your father put all this stuff in himself?"

"It looks like it, and without magic. I sure hope he didn't wire the house as well – remember it didn't have electricity before."

"Well, if he did, it's been working for awhile without anything burning yet, but I think we'd better quietly ask your mother about it."

"Really! I hope they at least had it inspected by someone competent."

"Are there wizard electricians? Or maybe a squib who prefers to live in the muggle world? Anyway, I'll bet your father had a lot of fun playing with the muggle tools and hardware."

Ginny laughed. "It'd be the perfect relief from government business."

Harry arched his eyebrows. "Well, second-best – your parents have had a lot of time in this house alone over the past nine months."

"Eww, Harry, don't say that. I don't want that image in my mind."

"Aw, come on, Ginny. It's one of the most wonderful things about your parents, that they're still so very much in love and attracted to each other." Then Harry spoke a bit lower and looked her in the eyes. "I certainly hope that's what my life will be like when I get to that age."

Ginny blushed and smiled. "That's the way it should be, isn't it. You reckon I'll be there with you?"

Harry looked furtively around, and then said, "We'll have to keep it a secret from my wife."

"Oi, you!" Ginny shouted and tackled him onto one of the exercise mats. They wrestled for several minutes before settling down holding each other.

Harry looked her in the eye again, "I don't guess either of us can make any long-term plans with this war on, but I'm certainly not with you just to have someone to play with. You know I had plenty of opportunities for girls to play with, and they didn't come with so many big brothers to make things difficult if they don't like something I do. I like the fun we have, but it's so much more for me."

"Me, too, Harry. I suppose all we can do under the circumstances is take each day as it comes, but I hope they can add up to something golden." She kissed him tenderly, then pulling away she stood up and gave Harry a hand up, "We'd better start making some noise with this equipment or Mum will be down here."

"We could charm the equipment to work itself," said Harry with a wink.

Ginny grinned. "Now, now! We have to be in top condition for whatever happens." Then she gave him a pat on the cheek and a small slap on his bottom and picked up a pair of dumbbells.

In the afternoon, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George came over. After a warm welcome, and various shoving, back-slapping, and jokes appropriate for male-bonding, Mrs. Weasley said, "Bill, where's Fleur? I thought she was coming with you?"

"Oh, sorry, Mum, she would have, but she's back at her folks' home this week. This is her sister's first year at Beauxbatons and it's their Spring Break this week also."

Harry did a bit of quick figuring. Gabrielle had appeared to be about 8 at the time of the TriWizard Tournament, three years earlier; that would make her 11 now, same as first year at Hogwarts.

"Well, at least most of my boys could be here."

"Well, for part of the time, anyway," said Charlie. "We're going to be heading to Hogwarts for the Spring Skirmish first thing tomorrow morning. We're going to have some team drills and tactical sessions before the big event. Fred and George say they have enough space in the basement of their Hogsmeade shop for us to stay there."

"That's enough, Charlie," said Arthur. "You know you can't talk about specific preparations around Harry, and just in case I wouldn't say anything around Kreacher, either."

Arthur jerked a finger toward the kitchen door, where they all saw the door suddenly close as a greenish flappy ear withdrew just as quickly.

What about Ron? Is he going to make it here at all?" asked Bill.

Ginny spoke up. "Between the Spring Skirmish and preparing for NEWTS, he couldn't get away. He's still working on the Grand Strategy for this week, as he calls it."

"Well, how about you - you're going to be there for the Skirmish, aren't you, Ginny? At least for the battles," George said, with a 'how could you miss it?' grin.

"MOCK battles," said Harry. "They're supposed to be mock battles."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Harry," said Fred, "We'll be good – what can happen?"

Harry scowled at him, and then said with a sigh, "I know you're not trying to get into them. It's a curse of some sort. I'm just worried about all of you."

George gave him a very concerned look, placed an arm around Harry's shoulder, and said, "And we're really worried about you, too, Harry."

Harry shrugged him off and they both laughed at the jape.

"Anyway," interrupted Ginny, "I'll be spending the week here. I reckon the DA can function for one week without me."

"Ooooo" said Fred. "Can't pull away from the new boyfriend, can you?"

She smiled broadly. "Don't want to."

"What do you reckon, Fred," said George, "think they'll make it to the summer still together?"

"Now we'll have none of that out of you two," said Molly. "They haven't been together all that long. We'll have no talk of breaking up, got that?"

"So, Harry, how's about giving us a tune-up on dueling skills, so we can survive the Skirmish," said Bill.

Harry rolled his eyes, but replied, "Sure, I could use some practice myself. I guess we can use the basement."

"Good," said Arthur, "I've heard that all of you have improved your skills this year, but I haven't seen you yet," said Arthur.

"Just be careful," said Mrs. Weasley. "I don't want any trips to St. Mungo's."

They all went downstairs and Harry readily adopted his 'coach' persona, pairing them off for duels and critiquing their work. After about an hour, Charlie said, "I thought you were going to get some practice in, too, Harry. How about dueling us, too?"

Harry smiled. "Okay, sounds good." He drew his wands and went into battle stance. "On the count of three. One, Two, …"

"Wait a sec, Harry," said Bill. "Which of us are you dueling?"

Harry grinned. "I thought Charlie had challenged me to fight all of you."

"Oh, you are such a show-off," said Ginny. "Well, if you want to drink your dinner through a straw, it's fine by me. Let's show him what Weasleys can do, boys."

They squared off again, and Harry counted down. At three, they all began firing spells at Harry, spreading out around the room, sometimes deliberately and sometimes as they dodged reflected spells. Harry dodged and deflected spells the whole time. After about five minutes, Charlie gave a loud whistle to call timeout.

"Aren't you," he panted, "even going to … fight back, Harry?"

"If you insist. I'd better let you old folks have a rest before we go on though."

Bill and Charlie both looked at each other and then glared back at Harry. "OLD FOLKS!" they said together.

Then Bill continued, "We'll show you who can see a battle through."

Once again they commenced, but this time Harry fought back, though with five dangerous sorcerers arrayed against him, defense was still the primary task. Harry aimed the reflected or converted spells back at the various Weasleys, dodged, apparated about the room, and worked in his own spells, usually obscure ones that were disabling but little known to the others. It was a little under ten minutes before they were all disabled. Harry then proceeded to unhex them all, starting with Ginny, who had been the last to fall and laughed at the fun of it all as Harry unhexed the rest.

"I knew I wasn't going to make book on that," said Fred, "but I thought we might have gotten ONE spell through on you."

Harry grinned. "Since the Battle of Gringotts, the only spell that's gotten through to me is Tonks's Cheering Charm, and I know how to block that now, too."

Arthur gave a low, admiring whistle. "This has been a real eye-opener for me. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. I can usually keep count of the spells in a duel, but even when it was just two of you going at it, I quickly lost track."

Fred put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "Harry really challenges us to do our utmost. He's a heck of a coach!"

"Thanks Fred," said Harry. "It's easy with eager students."

"Can any of the other students fight like that?" asked Arthur.

Harry answered. "We have about 10 or so that can fight at Ginny's level, maybe fifty at the twins' level. Don't you two frown – she's as good as Hermione and you remember what _she_ did to you last year."

"Yeah, well, we've gotten better," said George.

"So have they," said Harry, grinning, and then turning back to Arthur. "And I'd say we have at least two hundred that can fight like Bill and Charlie. They were a bit rusty when they started this year, but they've picked right up."

"Picked right up? They're at a level already that would have beaten all but a few aurors before the training camp this summer. You must have some force there when they are all together."

Harry snorted and grumbled. "You'd think, but they spend more time fighting each other than preparing to fight. It seems to be some sort of a curse that makes them so terribly short-tempered."

"Is that what you and Ginny have been researching, Harry?" asked Molly.

"Exactly."

"But," she continued, "they're all getting along here. There's no testiness at all."

"Yeah, somehow the curse is suppressed around me, although last week, Dobby blew up at me, too, so even that's not foolproof. I thought for a while that the glasses were involved, but it's not affecting the few students who aren't in the DA. Somehow it only affects the DA and teachers that are also preparing to defend. Maybe it only works at Hogwarts, and we'll all just have to move somewhere else."

"No, that doesn't work either" said Ginny. "Some of the aurors and auxiliaries were squabbling before we left training camp for Hogwarts, remember?"

"Yeah, so it's those who are preparing to fight Voldemort's forces," said Harry thoughtfully. "You know, that didn't start until Ron and I rescued Hermione. I wonder if something happened then – maybe to one of us - that's affecting everyone else."

"That's an excellent suggestion, Harry," said Arthur. "That goes with something I've noticed – that the fighting doesn't happen with these boys away from Hogwarts. And it hasn't happened with the aurors since they left training camp. You know, detecting curses on people and things is exactly what I was teaching in Defense Against the Dark Arts last year. I still have my materials and texts. We can work on determining if you have a curse on you during the evenings this week."

"That'd be great, but why only me? Ron went on the rescue, too"

"Ah, but he is affected the same way everyone else is, isn't he? If you're going to disable an army like this, you want the curse to hurt everyone but the person carrying it, because if the carrier gets disabled and has to leave the army, then the curse will no longer apply."

"Well, it takes some time to wear off. It seemed to have continued its effects during the week I was away at Christmas."

"Perhaps it takes time to weaken, like a slow poison. But you're also a better choice because you were the target of that attack. They may not have even expected Ron to come."

"But they were trying to kill me."

"Perhaps, but this could be a fallback ploy, a way to win even if they were not able to kill you. They had to know you were able to defend yourself," said Arthur. "Well, there are quite a number of tests we can try to see if there is a curse on you."

Harry looked down. "That would be an awful one. It would force me away from the people I love."

"That it would, Harry, unless we can beat it. Let's find out first if it exists, though," comforted Arthur.

"Harry?" said Molly. "I'm wondering about something. You were apparating during the duel."

"Yes?"

"There's an anti-apparation spell on the house."

"Yeah, I thought I felt some resistance," he said. "I can apparate through all but the strongest ones, I find. I can't apparate in Hogwarts' castle, and I couldn't in Gringotts until the goblins modified the spell to allow me to."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, there are different strengths. I've apparated to a few places where there are rather weak anti-apparation spells, like around the dragonholds. We try to keep people from accidentally apparating into the dragon's range, but we didn't have any goblins or other expert anti-disapparation spellcasters. It's enough to keep out most apparators and the rest can't help but be aware of it, so they are warned it's not a good place to be. We didn't worry about it being any stronger. In fact, that's how I was able to get the job – they needed someone who could check the eggs in the nests. I can spend two or three minutes at them before the mother figures out where the human smell is coming from and turns her attention under herself. I watch for that and apparate back out."

"I'll bet you've been scorched a few times, Charlie," said Harry.

"Once, Harry, that's all it takes, and then you take no more pointless risks."

With that, they decided to head upstairs for post-workout showers and dinner.

For the rest of the week, when Arthur Weasley was not at the Ministry, he was working with Harry and Ginny to run every sort of test he knew or that they could find in the books to see if Harry himself, or his wand, or other possessions were carrying a curse. The rest of Harry and Ginny's free time was spent in the library researching other ways to deliver and apply a curse.

At one point, Ginny shook her head and laughed. "I should be ready for the DADA NEWT next year."

Harry grumbled. "If we don't find a solution there may be no school at which to take NEWTS, even if you're alive to take them."

"Oh, you're a right bundle of laughs, aren't you?"

"Sorry, but if I had worked like this on preparation for the Triwizard Tournament tasks, I probably would have won outright and Cedric would be alive. I can't forget that my laziness and weakness may have cost him his life."

"Harry, don't do that to yourself. You didn't really want to be in the tournament in the first place. It's no wonder you never were all that enthusiastic. No one can fault your lack of effort over the past two years."

"If we all die, there won't be anyone around to fault me."

All the efforts were for naught. They even called Dumbledore on the mirror to ask him about any additional tests for curses. He knew nothing they hadn't tried. He also had no further ideas for what type of curse might be involved.


	50. Ashes and Rubble

Chapter 50 Ashes and Rubble

At the next Saturday's dinner, Hedwig arrived with a note. Harry recognized the near-illegible scrawl as Hagrid's: "Dear Harry, hope you've been enjoying your break. It's real important when you return that you apparate back to my cabin. Send Hedwig back with your return time so I can make sure I'm there to meet you. – Hagrid."

"That doesn't sound good," observed Harry, handing Hedwig a strip of London broil. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, have you heard from any of the boys?"

They exchanged quick glances with each other, then Arthur cleared his throat and, looking into his plate, said "Erm, no, Harry, nothing significant."

Harry cocked his head. "THAT didn't sound very convincing!"

Molly tried to comfort him. "Well, there've been a few disagreements, but it sounded like it wasn't anything to speak of. We didn't want you to worry."

Harry sighed. "That's the problem – the people under the curse are convinced it's not so bad, even while they carry their victims off to hospital. I suppose it's a good sign that Hagrid's cabin is still standing, but then they said they were going to stage part of their exercises in the castle." He took out a quill and spread the parchment to write a note back. "Ginny, how about we return at about 4 tomorrow, okay?"

"Can we make it 6:30 and have an early dinner here? We hadn't seen Mum and Dad in so long."

"Of course," said Harry. "It sounds like what's done is done. I just have to accept that some things are out of my hands."

After dinner, Harry and Ginny took Hedwig up to the new owlery to send her off. Harry watched north toward Hogwarts even after he could no longer see her.

Ginny put her arm around him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "It'll be alright, Harry, you'll see."

Harry kept his cool through Sunday, although his tension was evident. The Weasleys would often have to call his name several times to get his attention, as he was lost in thought about what might await at Hogwarts. He was packed before dinner and was clearly annoyed that Ginny was not. Even after dinner, she seemed to find more and more things that she needed to do with her mother, things that did not seem so important to Harry at all.

Mr. Weasley took Harry aside. "I think we have time for a bit of tea, Harry, and some talk."

Once they were in the kitchen and Mr. Weasley was puttering with the tea, water and cups, he went on. "A word of wisdom, son, on dealing with women: never expect them to be ready when you are. Even if they are ready, they'll find some reason to make you wait a while. If you're going to spend your life partnered with a woman, as I have – and I hope you know that Molly and I would love to see that be your course with Ginny – you need to learn how to adjust to their ways, just as they ought to learn to accept some of our ways. Set your departure time ahead of where you need to so that you can leave when you really want to – but never admit you are doing so, or they will take even longer. Also, what I do for these times is always carry something to read so I can pass the time calmly, usefully, and without dwelling on the frustration."

"Thanks for the advice, Mr. Weasley, but these spellbooks are bigger and heavier than paving stones – they aren't exactly convenient for carrying about."

"That's why newspapers and magazines were invented, Harry," Arthur said with a wink. "And you should count yourself lucky on this – she can be packed with a wave of her wand: muggle women can't do that."

Finally everything was done and it was time to go. There were hugs and tears all around.

"Good-bye, dears. Be very careful," said Mrs. Weasley, clinging as though she might never see them again. Harry understood this at least – they all knew that she might not see them again, and so, for all his anxiousness to get back to Hogwarts, he lingered in her hug as well.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," said Arthur.

His wife elbowed him. He looked at her and then it dawned on him.

"Scratch that – don't do anything we _would_ do."

"Dad, we know the things you're worried about. Let's just leave it at 'be careful'," said Ginny, with an indulgent smile.

"Always remember how much we love you both," he replied, with Molly tearfully nodding agreement.

Harry smiled broadly as Ginny answered, "We will."

They grabbed their bags and on the count of three, they apparated back to Hagrid's cabin. The smell of smoke was not a surprise, as Hagrid usually had a wood fire, but it seemed stronger than normal.

"There y'are," greeted Hagrid, trying to sound casual but revealing nervousness. He was sitting at his table with Madame Maxime, both having tea in cups big enough to wash a baby in.

"'Ello, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley," added Maxime with a warm smile. "It is good to see you again. I trust you 'ave 'ad a nice Spring Break."

Harry controlled his emotions to reply, "Hello, Hagrid, Professor Maxime. Now what was so important that we had to apparate here first?"

"Oh, we'll get to that," replied Hagrid. "First why don' you two have a cup of nettle wine with us."

Hagrid uncorked a large bottle and pulled out two tankard-sized mugs and filled them. When Hagrid handed them the mugs, their hands sank with the weight of them, as they had not realized just how full he had filled them. A slosh went over onto Harry's hand and, shifting the handle to his other hand, he gave the drips a quick sniff and lick to taste it. Harry had never actually tasted nettle wine: it had some of the soothing odor of regular wine, but was lighter and had an odd sourness to it.

Ginny took her cup and looked down into the pale greenish liquid. "Hagrid, you can't expect me to drink all of that! I'd be stewed."

"Oh, well, just what you can, then," said Hagrid. "You can handle it, Harry, can't yeh?"

"Well, I guess I could, but what's the interest in getting us drunk?"

"Oh, nothing, no interest, just being hospitable."

Madame Maxime spoke up anxiously. "We just thought you two would like to relax after your long trip."

"Long trip?" said Harry. "We apparated. I could have done it twenty times while Hagrid poured this. C'mon now, no more games: what's up?"

Hagrid nodded grimly. "Drink some; then we'll start showing you."

"Besides," added Maxime, "nettle wine brings to our minds a plant's sensibility – that storms can be weathered. As we show you things, just remember – everything can be set right again."

With this disturbing warning, Harry took a deep draught, as did Ginny, and then Hagrid led them out the back door, looking toward the forest. There were a few scorch marks on the trees, as there had been the year before from stray spells that missed their mark. Then Harry looked above the trees and saw smoke curling upward from several areas, apparently deep into the forest.

"Fire? The woods are on fire?"

Hagrid cleared his throat. "Erm, not anymore, well, not much. We got 'em all out, for the most part."

"Tell me that was not caused by the students fighting each other!"

Hagrid pursed his lips and rubbed his great hands together, ignoring Harry's demand. "Take another drink and we'll head around front."

As they headed around the side of the cabin, the lake and the hillocks around Hogwarts Castle came into view. Several of the hillocks had holes gouged in their sides.

"Things got a little out of hand over t'here - some of the senior students exchanging spells and deflecting them. But it's okay, eventually it all petered out and no one's dead. Now before we go around the rest of the way, just remember that the perfessers have everythin' under control and will have it fixed in no time."

"What? It gets worse?" Harry broke from the others and ran around the edge of the cabin. There he found his beloved Hogwarts in ruins: not collapsed exactly, but certainly no longer sound. Harry was sure that many parts would have collapsed if not for enchantments. There was a hole in the foundation near where the boats take the first-years big enough for dragons to fly through. The top of Trelawney's tower was completely off and open to the elements (Harry felt guilty for thinking, "good - at least the place is finally getting a proper airing out."). One corner of the Great Hall was caved in. The shrubbery was not just scorched but clearly burned down by at least two feet. One greenhouse was caved in and the small greenhouse where Devil's Snare was grown was simply gone, the plants apparently killed by the sunlight reaching them. The Astronomy Tower was tottering precariously and smoke rose from various unseen places around the castle. Harry was relieved to see that the library, the owlery tower, and Gryffindor tower were intact. Almost as importantly, he could see that several of the professors were already reassembling the shattered pieces of Hogwarts.

Tears rolled down Harry's eyes, but he managed to control himself enough to say, with voice cracking, "Okay, it's just a building, a most special one, but a building nonetheless. How about the students? Are they okay?"

"They vill recovair," said Maxime.

"How many are injured?" asked Harry, sadly.

"Maybe ten or twelve …" started Maxime.

"Whew," said Harry.

"…are not injured," Maxime concluded.

"Ten or twelve are NOT injured?" Harry downed the rest of his mug. "Ginny, I've got to get up there – are you coming with me?"

"Of course, Harry."

They rushed back into the cabin for their things. Ginny set down her mug and grabbed her trunk.

"Are you going to finish that?" asked Harry, and when she shook her head, he downed the rest of her wine. "Let's go."

Harry grabbed his trunk and a pinch of Floo Powder from a pot on Hagrid's mantle. Tossing it into the fire, he jumped in, shouting "Hogwarts' Entry Hall!"

Just as quickly, he jumped out and started patting down his singed robes.

"Harry, I thought yeh knew my cabin warn't on the Floo System."

"Why not? I thought all the fireplaces were?"

"I never asked for mine to be – after all I don't fit in the fireplace, so it'd do me no good, and maybe it'd let someone who warn't friendly to me in?"

"Okay, Hagrid, it makes sense. Come on, Ginny. We won't save much by apparating the little bit we could."

Madame Maxime took their bags like they were a purse to a normal woman. "I know your concern – you two run ahead. I will be returning to the castle later and can carry these."

Harry looked at the two half-giants, and replied in bitter sarcasm. "Well, I'm glad you two can concern yourself with other things."

"Harry," said Ginny, "the repair of the school and the healing of the students must be under control or they wouldn't have had time to owl and meet us."

Harry breathed deeply and exhaled. "You're right, Ginny. That's why I've needed you so. You keep things in perspective. Thanks, Professor Maxime. Ginny, can we run?"

"Of course. Let's go."


	51. Defeat

Chapter 51 Defeat

Harry and Ginny rushed by foot toward the castle. They left their bags in the Entry Hall and ran to the hospital wing. There were hundreds still being treated there, and they later found a similar number in the goblin clinic, which had been magically expanded to accommodate the need. Harry went around to each one, apologizing for not finding the solution yet, and promising to spare no effort to do so. Where an unhexing that Harry knew would help, he performed it.

Everyone was in remarkably good spirits: to hear them this was nothing more serious than a seven-year-old discussing the loss of a baby tooth. After visiting everyone, he sat by Hermione's bed with Ginny and Ron, who was one of the few needing no more than an unhexing.

"The race is on," said Harry grimly.

"What race, mate?" asked Ron.

"Voldemort has seen this and called in the Death Eaters. He is even now threatening them most severely if they do not have their forces ready to attack before we have dispersed for the summer. He is not even allowing them to stand behind the curtain. Instead they are keeping their eyes closed so he cannot accidentally reveal their preparations to me. He knows that giants and dementors take some effort to move distances and they require great effort to manage, but he is leaving his people no doubt as to how severe the punishment will be if they do not trap all of us here. And my part of the race is to find a solution that will allow us to work together before they're ready to attack."

"I'll help any way I can, Harry," said Hermione.

"I appreciate that, Hermione, and normally there's no one I'd want in a library more than you. But I'm afraid that the part of the curse that clouds your mind to the extent of the problem will also make you unable to recognize the solution. I can't take that chance. The help I do want from you and Ron – and, of course, you, Ginny - is to be with me when I search Voldemort's knowledge. I have avoided doing that extensively because there is so much that is repugnant there, but he knows things that aren't in the library even, and he may know the solution, even if he doesn't realize it. I need my friends with me when I delve into something that foul. I need those I care most about to help draw me back into my own mind."

Ron reached over and rubbed Harry's shoulder. "We'll be there for you, mate."

The sessions searching through Voldemort's mind were grueling. No mind is a perfectly organized filing system, but a hate-filled mind is more twisted than most. On the way to searching out some bit of magic or lore, Harry would find connections to various incidents. He found the occasions where his parents had defied Voldemort: he thought they must be the bravest people he had ever known of. Then he found the same for the Longbottoms and several others, and realized that there were others just as remarkably brave – or perhaps it was on occasion desperation.

He found Moaning Myrtle's death as well as those of literally hundreds, perhaps thousands as he lost count, of others. In addition to murders, there were untold numbers of tortures, inflicting such excruciating agony that the victims were left contorting like a spider tossed into flames. He didn't just find the murders and tortures as one finds war casualties catalogued in a book: Harry experienced them, with all the sadistic glee Voldemort experienced in exercising such power over others' lives and deaths.

He found Peter Pettigrew betraying the Order and specifically Harry's parents and he could not pull himself back as he watched through Voldemort's eyes as first his father fought and died, then his mother begged for Harry's life and was killed as she threw herself in front of the crib, and then he saw the attempt to kill baby Harry; he felt the excruciating pain Voldemort had felt in being ripped from his body and the immense powerlessness of the years without a body.

These and thousands of other experiences Harry forced himself to live through in the hope that he might find a solution. It was not at all unusual to find Harry in the Gryffindor common room shaking like a leaf, with a distant haunted look in his eyes, on a few occasions even crying quietly, as he recovered from reliving Voldemort's horrid, ghastly life, sometimes with his head cradled on a dear friend's shoulder or lap, sometimes just staring into the fire or out the window, sometimes laying his head on the table as friends took turns rubbing his back and reassuring him.

Harry was implacable in his search. He began missing classes and meals and even quidditch practice. He would have given up the morning run and workouts, but Ginny made him go for exercise, reminding him that they helped to keep his mind sharp. She also made sure that he ate, and when he missed meals in the Great Hall, she brought him food. Sometimes, she even sneaked the food into the library, and both Harry and Ginny suspected that Madam Pince was aware of the contraband but turned a blind eye.

Harry would have missed the final quidditch game of the year, but he was waylaid by the team and Hermione and physically forced to the pitch. As soon as the whistle blew, he searched frantically for the snitch. He ignored all of Malfoy's taunting. Within fifteen minutes he had found the snitch and grabbed it, securing the House Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor. He didn't even land, but handed the snitch to Ron, said "Congratulations, Captain," flew to Ginny for a hug and a kiss, and set off for the castle on his broom.

He would have even skipped NEWTS, but Professor McGonagall intervened to get him to each of the sessions. He was even required to retake his Defense against the Dark Arts NEWT, even though he had already taken it and passed two years earlier. It took longer than ever as the examiner tried to find something Harry didn't know or couldn't do. Finally Harry deliberately missed a trivial question about billywigs just so he could get back to the library.

On June 19, all the NEWTs and OWLs were over. The next day was scheduled for the last exams for the other years. The Final Feast was to be on Saturday. The night of the nineteenth Harry's sleep was highly disturbed. Once again he had the dream which had perplexed him all year. He had images of Voldemort directing hundreds of followers to fan out first over Britain and then the world, exterminating all resistance. Then his dream wandered to the basilisk they had bred as a weapon. Again there was the image of him and his friends in their Hogwarts' robes riding basilisks the size of the one he had killed in the Chamber of Secrets, as if they were so many fremen riding sandworms in Dune. They led their basilisks against Voldemort's forces and petrified them all. Harry and his friends laughed and celebrated over the destruction of Voldemort's forces. Then the tails of the basilisks whipped around and shattered the petrified bodies into tiny shards which scattered across the land. From each shard grew a new Death Eater, just like the soldiers arising from dragon teeth in Greek mythology. No matter how many times they tried to destroy the Death Eaters, more and more arose from the battlefield. And through it all the Dark Mark became larger and brighter in the sky. Harry tossed and turned in his sleep all night, alternately elated at the destruction and horrified at the resurrection of Voldemort and his followers. Harry knew something was missing, that somehow he had failed. His mind turned to the curse and realized that with whatever skills or weapons they had, he had failed, he just wasn't good enough to solve what needed to be solved. He had let his friends down, and the Death Eaters could not be ultimately put down, because he – Harry – was unworthy of the task.

Harry was awakened by the other boys of his dorm room, joyfully rising for their early morning run. They had a whole day at Hogwarts to enjoy, as they had completed all their studies and tests. They were ebullient, and they pulled Harry along with them, even though his instincts told him he ought to return to the library. After the run, Ginny dragged Harry to breakfast and made him take at least a sausage and some porridge. His mood was actually starting to brighten as he realized that it looked like the Death Eaters had failed to assemble for the attack.

Suddenly Harry went extremely tense and held his scar. He stood up and used his wand to make several small explosions to quiet the Hall.

"I am so sorry," he announced, "I have failed to solve the curse, and now the attack is on. The Death Eaters have just reported to Voldemort that they are ready to apparate to positions and launch the attack on Hogwarts. Those of you who can apparate away, I would recommend it. The Floo network may still be usable, but they may have boobytrapped it – be careful. As for me, I will fight even if I am the last person here left standing."

Hermione stood and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Are you certain of this, Harry?"

"Absolutely – they would not lie to him."

"Where are they assembling? How are they attacking?"

"Why do you ask? The curse will have you fighting yourselves rather than defending!"

"Just tell us – we'll do what we can!"

"The giants have been hidden in the great ravine on the north end of the lake – they are coming around through the forest to attack from the north. The dark sorcerers are apparating to join with the dementors hidden at the south end of the lake and are coming through the forest on that side to attack."

The entire Hall erupted first into a cacophonous panic, then arguments, and finally outright fighting. Tables were overturned, teachers screamed for students to return to their dorms, and tapestries were torn. Harry buried his face in his hands.

The last thing Harry heard was Ron's voice shouting above the din: "STUPEFY!" Harry felt sudden pain and his body wrenched, and everything went blank.


	52. The Trap

Chapter 52 The Trap

Harry felt his consciousness return to him and had the presence of mind to continue to pose as unconscious until he had a better idea what was going on. He had been moved, but not to the Hospital Wing. That meant whoever had moved him had plans for him other than recuperation. He could feel himself on something long, flat and hard like a table or wide bench. The air around him was humid, and yet he was cold because he was naked, with only a sheet over him. He heard footsteps, many types of footsteps, shoes, boots, the padding of bare feet, – was that hooves? - and some splashing sounds. There were hushed voices, but he could only catch occasional words "trap … spell … surrounded … waiting for word …"

No one seemed to be immediately around him, so Harry decided to attempt an escape. His best escape would be apparation, although it would almost certainly mean leaving his wands behind. He tried, but couldn't: he hoped that meant they were still in Hogwarts castle, although he was weak enough apparating without a wand that even a modest spell could have stopped him. He would have to fight his way out. He needed the element of surprise.

Harry catapulted himself up, yelling "Accio Wands, Expelliarmus" with his mind focused on summoning all the wands in the vicinity, not just his own. Landing on his feet, five wands flew to his hands, and he went into battle stance, backing up quickly until he got his back to the wall. He realized they were in the prefects' bathroom, at the edge of the pool-sized bathtub. There was a small crowd of beings of many types around, all suddenly staring at him.

"Oh, wonderful, Harry, you're awake," said Hermione pleasantly. "We're just now ready for you."

"Enough of that, Hermione! Ron stunned me, you dragged me here: I want to know what's going on!"

The rest looked shocked at Harry's reaction and quite nervous about what he might do. Hermione walked toward him with her hands up and her palms toward him to indicate he should calm down.

"I know it seems bad, Harry. I hated that Ron had to do that," she pled. "It is very important that you simply trust me. We need you to participate in a spell. It will be better if we add your strength to it. For all that we have ever meant to each other, trust me now."

Harry glared at her. "How do I even know you're Hermione? I can't see your eyes. Show me your eyes."

"I can't do that yet. Ask me something only I would know."

Harry thought about what was obscure enough. "Right then. What potion did you make secretly in second-year."

Hermione glanced around nervously. "Polyjuice, Harry.'

"Could be a lucky guess, a lot of people seem to have been making polyjuice – what mistake did you make with the polyjuice?"

"I thought I had a human hair, but it turned out to be a cat hair."

Harry heard the others around Hermione snickering, but he kept his attention on her. "And how did you get the ingredients that weren't in the student supplies?"

"Harry, please! Professor Maxime is here – I could get expelled."

"I am busy ovair 'ere, 'Ermione, I am hearing not a sing," rang Madame Maxime's voice from near the door.

"Nevermind, Hermione, I know it's you. Only Hermione would think first of how it would affect her academic standing. Now how do I know that the curse hasn't gotten control of you?"

"The only proof I can give you right now is that you haven't been hurt or bound or killed. If a curse was going to make me hurt you, wouldn't I have done something more to you? I knew Ron would stun you and the only explanation I can give you is that you could not be allowed to see what was happening just then."

Harry stared at her, and then glanced around the room, then back to Hermione. He reasoned that whatever might have made Hermione and Ron coordinate an attack on him must have abated, since nothing more had happened to him despite his total vulnerability. Certainly she seemed rational at the moment. He straightened up and handed her all the wands but his own.

"Wonderful, Harry. Come right now and we'll do the spell and then I can explain it all."

"Do I have time to get dressed?"

"No, there's a reason your clothes are off. I'll explain after the spell. It's important we hurry. Everyone here has seen you naked now and no one cares."

"Hello, Harree!" called Fleur Delacouer cheerfully while eyeing his body and nodding approval. "You have grown up _vairee nicely_ since ze Triwizard Tournament."

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Well, almost no one cares. Fleur, we weren't going to make him feel self-conscious, you know."

"Oh you Engleesh are so immature about ze body. He is a handsome and fit young man. I should have ze camera, not averting my eyes like he was some sort of deformed thing. It ees a pleasure to see and nothing for shame. I am not saying cruel things to make him feel uncomfortable."

"Oh, whatever, let's just get the spell done," said Hermione. "Melony, where should we all be."

"Form into a circle," said Melony, "get close enough to the tub for the mermaid. Yes, good, Madame Maxime, you will be able to take Her Grace's hand at pool level and Firenze's at the same time. Everyone take the hand of the person next to you with your fingers interleaved – like this – above your heads and reaching toward the center of the circle. When I have said the incantation, raise your hands back and upward, but without losing contact with your neighbor. I'll tell you when you can let go. For those of you who do not understand gobbledygook, it is enough that you focus your mind on protection of Hogwarts, the forest, and the vicinity."

Finally, something that made some sense to Harry: concentrating on protecting the school. He joined the circle, along with Hermione, Melony, Fleur, a mermaid chieftainess who was in the pool (obviously the reason they had chosen this room, since mermaids can only be out of water for fairly short periods), Firenze, Madame Maxime and one of the house elves. Melony spoke what was obviously a rhyming and rhythmic incantation in the harsh syllables of gobbledygook. When the time was right, she nodded and they threw their clasped hands back. An enormous blue light was created which spread outward in a circle like the shock wave from a nuclear explosion Harry had seen on films in his muggle school.

"Now bring your hands inward again," said Melony, "and release. Thank you all very much. It was an honor and thrill for me to participate in the strongest spell I have ever helped to perform. Those of you who will not be in the battle or healing are asked to remain near here in case the spell proves unstable and must be performed again. The house elves will be seeing to your needs when more critical defensive needs do not demand otherwise."

"Okay, Harry, come back over here behind the curtain so I can finish with your murtlap," said Hermione.

"Murtlap? What for?"

"Well, you're going to be out in the battle soon. We want you as well–protected as we can."

"Is anyone else going to be able to fight?"

"Of course, Harry. Anyone who isn't rescuing the wounded or healing them is going to be fighting or guarding entrances. Don't you see – it's a trap!"

Hermione was starting to get more enthusiastic than Harry had ever seen her. In fact, she seemed rather manic. Harry was frustrated that she seemed uncontrollably ebullient.

"I know it's a trap, Hermione! I told you about it. The giants, several hundred of them, are going to hit from the north, and from the south we're going to be attacked by 1200 dementors and over 4000 dark wizards."

"Right where we want them!" bubbled Hermione, as she punched one hand with a fist, and then began to put a glove on. "Lie down."

"What?" said Harry, as he sat on the wide dressing bench he had waked up on.

"They thought we were going to be trapped," said Hermione as she opened the jar of murtlap and began to scoop some out with her gloved hand, "but all along we were trapping them!"

"Ouch, Hermione, you're out of control - careful how you apply that stuff. Then take a deep breath and explain it to me."

"Okay, Harry, it's like this. Back in the summer, when we started responding to the death teams, we were stopping most, but having a number of losses as well, like Mrs. McMillan. It was tearing apart the magical community. We believed we could beat Voldemort's people if we could ever confront them – the response teams were doing that regularly if they got there in time. And we needed to do that, because the hit-and-run terrorism was grueling to respond to. So the question was – how could we draw them out into an open battle, where they would not be able to run when they found how capable we were? This was the question that Arthur Weasley put to the Order at the meeting after you and Ron rescued me. Remus told me that Mr. Weasley was shaking as he described how you offered to let him kill you to destroy Voldemort. He said that Mr. Weasley then composed himself and assumed command that night; he took on the persona needed to truly become the Minister of Magic – he demanded a strategy. It was Snape who suggested that Voldemort would not commit his forces unless victory looked certain, and the way to do that was to look weak. Tonks pointed out that we needed to keep on training, and that your coaching was particularly needed, so trying to fake being weak individually was not possible around you. I think it was Mr. Diggle, or was it Professor McGonagall? – "

"Hermione, calm down! You're too hyper. It doesn't much matter who said what, just fill me in."

"You're right, Harry, and I don't have all the details since I wasn't there. Someone said the alternative was to look fractious and divided. I know it was Moody who said we should make it look like there was a curse that was tearing us apart. Professor McGonagall pointed out how you would have to be kept totally in the dark about the strategy. Remus and Mrs. Weasley were concerned that it would drive you nearly mad, but that didn't seem to upset Snape very much."

"I'll bet," said Harry. "So what else?"

"Well, they kicked ideas around that night. Mr. Weasley told how the glasses had worked against legilemency, so they agreed that everyone had to have them to protect the plan. They sent out witches and wizards to muggle department stores all over London to get enough wraparound mirrored sunglasses to cover everyone at training camp. Then they placed orders for all the people whom you would be in contact with this year."

"Well, not everyone. Cameron and Hagrid don't wear them. Dumbledore and Snape don't," observed Harry (making a point to leave out that Ginny had been taking hers off with him).

"That was Dumbledore's idea. He knew that he and Snape could protect the plan by using Occlumency. Reverend MacBoon had no need to know – he was needed to keep on counseling you just as he had, and it would be easier on him if he knew only what you knew. It's pretty much the same for Hagrid – you needed a close friend whose eyes you could look into. Besides, he is perhaps the worst secret-keeper in the world. I would trust him with anything that did not require keeping a secret, but nothing confidential."

"Agreed. It was really nice giving him his wizard training and being able to talk to someone without the glasses."

"Of course, it was, Harry. They were fun at first, but all of us hate the glasses now, too. We spent a lot of time in the safe rooms so we could take them off."

"Let me see if I have this right, now. There has never been a curse; everyone in the school and at training camp has pretended to be influenced by one that made them squabble and fight with each other so that Voldemort, looking through my eyes, would see us as weak and commit his forces, so that we could then meet them and destroy them."

"Exactly."

Harry found the maniacal glint in Hermione's eyes disquieting.

"You people even blew holes through the castle to be more convincing?" Harry asked as he started to put his clothes back on.

"I prefer to think of it as renovation – Dumbledore installed additional magical protections and features as the repairs were made. My parents have done worse to their house redecorating. Come look over here," she said pointing out one of the narrow windows.

Harry looked and saw three dragons circling in the sky, one flying up to the others, and another and then another emerge from the base of the castle.

"Is that – Charlie – I see on that Norwegian Ridgeback?"

Yes, it is, and that Norwegian Ridgeback is Norbert. We'll have seven trained dragons in the battle."

"I thought dragons couldn't really be tamed?"

"They aren't truly tame. But they're under control enough for our purposes."

"How could you have hidden dragons in the castle?"

"Oh, we couldn't. But over Spring Break, we blew a hole in the castle big enough to install a dragon-sized Floo connection – connected to another one in Romania, where Charlie and the dragon rangers have been training the orphan dragons they care for while studying the truly wild dragons."

"Wow," said Harry. "I'm impressed. So what are they going to do – charge the dark wizard army with fire?"

"You'll find out in due time what their role is. It's still a bit early to let you know – or rather, to let Voldemort know. There are still adjustments his people could make to make our job more difficult."

"Okay, I'm happy to get whatever information you can share, just make sure it's enough that I don't mess something up. Now, we are here in the bathroom because …?"

"Remember Melony's lecture on anti-apparation spells – she said that with enough powerful representatives of a wide variety of magical beings, such a spell could be cast that would stop all but the strongest of wizards from apparating in or out for more than five miles around. The giants and dementors would not have been able to apparate away anyway – now the sorcerers can't either. They're trapped. We had a witch, a wizard, a goblin, a house elf, a centaur, a mermaid, a half-giant and a quarter veela. That was why Madame Maxime was asked to be the Defense teacher – she has and will contribute in other ways as well, but her giant blood adds a lot to the strength and we couldn't use Hagrid because he couldn't be let in on the plan. When we filled Melony in on it, she and Dobby even suggested that they accelerate their plans to start a family so that she would have the dramatic increase in power that goblin mothers have in defending their homes."

"You people thought this through. Voldemort is fuming. But Hermione – they still outnumber us badly."

"The Floo network is being used to bring in every adult wizard or witch who can be spared. They will only be able to help defend the castle and fight on open ground and against the giants, however. We have an uneasy alliance with the centaurs. When they found that the giants were being brought into the Forest, they approached Madame Maxime about the situation – they were still too angry with Hagrid to talk to him. They have agreed to tolerate students – even seventh-years – in the Forest. They will also attack Voldemort's sorcerers in the forest, in return for our working to clear the forest of the giants and dementors. They can't do magic, but they are strong, almost as resistant to spells as giants, and can easily outrun dementors. They told us where the giants were and we told them enough of the plan so that they would know we had to wait until Voldemort's forces were committed."

"They've put up with the giants for all this time?"

"Sort of. They've been concentrating on the south side of the forest for months now to avoid the occasional foraging giant. The centaurs are large and strong, but not enough to take on giants, and the giants don't mind eating centaurs. You'd be amazed how that motivates the centaurs."

"Well, not really. That part makes perfect sense. Even a centaur can't be neutral about being eaten. But even that will leave us badly outnumbered."

"Well, the people you have coached are the best fighters around, and we fight in well-disciplined units. They have spent all their time recruiting and assembling their forces, but they have not learned to fight as a cohesive group. A disciplined army with a good strategy can beat a rabble of even excellent fighters – that's how Julius Caesar conquered Britain with only a few thousand troops." Hermione then turned and looked grimly out the window. "And let me assure you that the lucky ones among them are the ones to be disabled by our army."

Harry tilted his head. "Why is that, Hermione?"

Hermione turned toward him angrily and whipped out her wand, holding it straight upwards between them. "See this wand? Any of them not on a stretcher who gets close enough to see this wand is going to find out just how much damage can be done with it. I have put up with far too much pain and frustration to restrain myself against anyone that's part of the reason all this was done."

"Oh!" said Harry, quietly. Then he asked, "The sunglasses got to you that much?"

Hermione put the wand away and stepped right up to Harry. "Not the bloody sunglasses, Harry – YOU!" she said, poking a finger in his chest. Then tears began to flow copiously down her cheeks. "It was awful to see you so frustrated over what we knew was a ruse. Up until Spring Break, it was merely horrible, but since then it has been the most terrifying experience of my life, worse than the dementors, worse than the Department of Mysteries. Nobody but Ron, Ginny, and I – oh, Dumbledore and McGonagall too - know so well how much torture you have endured, how you heaped it upon yourself in hopes of saving us from the curse you thought afflicted us. Especially these last couple of months as you became so obsessed and delved again and again through Voldemort's mind, it has been horrid. We were so afraid at times that we would lose you entirely. We'd have to get off by ourselves and let out our pain. It was all we could do to not blurt out that you needn't work at it so hard, that you needn't wallow in Voldemort's filth, that it was all just a gambit. But we couldn't and we knew it. We had to be tough, with you and with ourselves – you had to believe in the curse so he would believe in the curse. It was your desperation more than anything which coloured his perception of the matter. Your panic and frustration at our inability to stop fighting helped to keep him from questioning the charade. Your obsessive search for a solution made it easy for us to show you and him just what we wanted to show. And so we continued to let you suffer like you did, and we'd hold you and soothe you, then we'd go and cry together in safe rooms. ALL BECAUSE OF THOSE BLOODY BASTARDS OUT THERE!"

With that Hermione broke down sobbing and hugged Harry close, burying her face in his shoulder. He hugged her and stroked her back.

"It's all right now, Hermione," he said. "I understand."

She sniffed and straightened up. "Well, it's not all right by me until every one of them is rounded up and dealt with, but we haven't time for tears right now. Besides a disciplined force, we have some additional reserves. That's part of your job in the opening hours of the battle. We have these envelopes with your instructions. They're numbered for you. This envelope here – the thick one – has another envelope inside it. Don't open that one; it has instructions for someone else. The note wrapped around it will tell you all about it. You need to complete the instructions in each numbered envelope before opening the next one. Each one puts the additional pieces into place without revealing the next step to Voldemort. That way he can't warn his troops until you already know about that step and have started to carry it out. In the meantime, we'll be getting into position and beginning operations – I can't tell you what that involves; you'll find out as you carry out the instructions in the last envelope."

"Okay, speaking of Voldemort," said Harry, "we have people who can fight anyone else he has, but how did you plan on taking care of him if he shows up?"

Hermione's lip quivered as she spoke. "Well, first, we expect he won't, as he has never committed himself personally in an operation unless victory had become certain or his presence was the only sure way to get a job done. But, Harry, when it comes time for someone to meet him, you've known for two years now that that's your job. If I knew of any other way - if any of us knew of any other way, we would take it. We can meet all his forces and we're pretty sure we can beat them, and we need to in order to protect ourselves, our families, and both the muggle and wizarding worlds. At least if we eliminate all his forces, he has to rebuild an army or do things himself. That will take time, and we will have bought ourselves some room to build our strength. But when it comes down to beating him – it's you that has to find the way."

"Is that what Dumbledore says?"

"Yes, Harry. He says you have what you need to win. He pointed out that you share the same powers and knowledge as Voldemort, you know what he is going to do before he can even do it, you have faster hands and reflexes and you are younger and have an athlete's stamina."

"But is that enough? His body has been destroyed before, and he came back."

Hermione nodded. "Dumbledore says that your work with Cameron has set you on the right path and that you will know what to do when the time comes."

"Oh. Just like that."

Hermione cupped her hands around her mouth and tried to choke back her tears. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry I can't tell you more. I really don't know any more. I think Dumbledore may have an idea, but he either isn't so sure himself or telling us would make it harder to achieve."

Harry looked very seriously at Hermione. "There's another way, you know. Arthur Weasley didn't have the nerve to do it, and now I'm asking you to do it." He closed his eyes and clasped his hands behind his back, "Destroy me and you destroy Voldemort – then the rest of you can deal with the dark army."

Harry waited a few seconds with eyes closed. Then suddenly 'CRACK', he felt a sharp pain across his face. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione rubbing her palm in pain and breathing hard. She glared at him and then grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him up against the wall.

"WE DIDN'T GO THROUGH THIS WHOLE SCHEME FOR OVER NINE MONTHS JUST TO START KILLING OFF THE PEOPLE WE LOVE, BUSTER. YOU'D BETTER GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD THAT YOU ARE PART OF THIS TEAM AND YOU'RE GOING TO STAY THAT WAY. AND IF VOLDEMORT SHOWS UP YOU'RE GOING TO KICK HIS ARSE! AND I EXPECT YOU TO DANCE WITH ME AT MY WEDDING, WHENEVER THAT MIGHT BE – HAVE YOU GOT THAT?"

"Y-y-y-yes, Hermione."

She relaxed and let go of his shoulders and began to catch her breath.

"Hermione?" said Harry.

"What?" she growled.

"I love you, too."

"I know, you great git! Don't you ever suggest a thing like that to me again!"

"I won't. So everything that has happened this year has been a ruse. What about the fighting? What about the damage to Hogwarts and the forest?"

"Well, the arguments were fakes – I mean, they had to be, they were mostly so stupid, but they made the curse seem the only explanation just because they were so stupid, - but the fighting's been real. Not that we were angry, but we had to fight 'for keeps,' so Madame Maxime has been awarding bonus points in DADA to those who win fights. When we sparred we too often pulled our punches, not wanting to really hex each other. Since we've been fighting for real, we've become much better at disabling opponents. As you know, many of us are quite dangerous now, although we disable without killing. The damage to Hogwarts and some of the fires were for show, although we had to make it look real for Malfoy and the few others who haven't joined us. But mostly in the woods, we were setting traps. For instance, we set up what look like natural defensive positions for the dark army, but when they take them, they'll find those places infested with devil's snare."

"But what if the students forget and jump into one of those?"

"Don't worry, we have subtle markings to give us the locations, and the students all work as teams so they can protect each other from any mistakes."

Suddenly there was a deep rumble and the whole castle shook. Hermione got very excited again, "Madame Maxime! That was one of mine – I recognize it."

"Vairy good, 'Ermione. Ten points."

"Woohoo!" celebrated Hermione, pumping her fist. Then she looked at Harry and gave a wicked, bloodthirsty grin that scared Harry. "Some of our traps are somewhat less subtle than devil's snare. I can picture right where the main group of them are – that little surprise I had placed for them will split the wizard forces and make escape by foot difficult!"

"What about Malfoy and those other students who wouldn't join us, Hermione? They might do something back here."

"We thought of that, Harry. When you announced about the battle, the order was given for everyone to go back to their dorms, but everyone else knew not to do it. Once they were safely confined, their door was disabled. Crabbe and Goyle are standing guard."

"They are? Why them?"

"We didn't want to have them have the chance of being faced with fighting their own fathers. We thought they'd stick with us, but even they were not too certain. So since we needed someone to guard Slytherin, well, there they are. The door has been made soundproof so they can't be tricked. They still aren't the sharpest tools in the shed, you know."

"They've gotten better," observed Harry.

"Everyone does if you work with them, Harry. It's just been amazing these past few years."

Harry nodded acknowledgement. "Hermione, what about the Floo network and the secret entrances?"

"Aurors and adult auxiliaries are guarding those if they, erm, don't have the skills for certain other parts of our strategy against the giants – sorry I can't tell you the special skills for that yet - since they can't go into the south part of the woods where nearly all of the wand-to-wand fighting should take place. The elves will help with the entrances if needed, but the narrow openings are very easy to defend. Mostly the elves will be helping in the hospital and clinic and seeing to getting people fed when they have a chance.

"Here are your envelopes. The first one tells you to apparate to help Hagrid with something. You'll need to get far enough from the castle to apparate – only you and Dumbledore and Voldemort are strong enough to apparate through the spell we just cast. There are more instructions inside. I must get going – Madame Pomfrey and Melony need me to help get things ready."

And with that, Hermione kissed him on the cheek and went running out the door. Harry looked around at those who remained – the mermaid enjoying the warmth of the tub compared to the usual cold lake, and Firenze, looking wistfully at a painting of a small herd of centaurettes on the wall.

"What do the omens say, Firenze?" asked Harry.

"Since you were born, Harry Potter, the omens have been in disarray."

"Oh," said Harry disappointedly.

"Be not discouraged by that, Harry Potter. Before your birth, we centaurs found only dismal omens. Now there is opportunity, and if I may be permitted a most uncentaurlike word, hope. I cannot tell you the omens are good, but at least I can also say that I cannot tell you they are bad. That means that there is opportunity and that is an improvement. Godspeed, Harry Potter."


	53. Aragog Revisited

Chapter 53 Aragog Revisited

Harry began to open the first envelope as he left the prefects bathroom and headed for the stairs. Then something occurred to Harry. He needed to ask Hermione about one more thing. He ran to the hidden passage to the Hospital Wing that they had been shown for removing injured students from DA sessions. He called down it and caught up with her partway down it. She stopped and turned, the dim torchlight of the tunnel gave her excited grin and panting from the running and adrenaline a macabre cast.

"Yes, Harry, is there something else? We're really in quite a hurry and I may not be able to answer, you know."

"Yeah, there's something else, but first – how can you grin at a time like this?"

Her smile took on a bit more warmth and focus, although her speech remained as fast and overwrought as before. "Because it's almost over. You aren't the only one who couldn't really have a life until Voldemort's forces were met. We were all targets, as well as our families, once we had taken training with you. Don't get me wrong – no one regrets that part for a second. We're ever so grateful. But we've been through a lot – as have you – this year to bring it all to this point. We've been in an intricate and torturous cat-and-mouse game all year, and now it's wands out in the open. It's such a relief not to have to pretend any more. And of course, it is delightful that the tables have turned and the hunters have become the hunted – our allies and our traps will flush them out and our platoons will mow them down like we did at Gringott's."

"I guess I can see that," replied Harry, "but I need to make sure I understand something: everything this year has been planned?"

Hermione went on as hyperactive as before. "Yes, in broad outline – we made up the details as we went along, but we could always make up something to argue about, or just go berserk. Sometimes making up ridiculous reasons to fight was great release of tension in itself – rather like playing pranks. Oh, quidditch was played straight if that's what you're worried about. We didn't see a reason to mess with that, and everyone needed their outlet from the stress of putting on an act all the time."

"Well, I was actually wondering about Ginny."

"Oh, yes! Goodness, hasn't she been brilliant?"

"Well, I thought so, but I …"

"When it was mentioned to her, she agreed immediately, you know," chattered Hermione manically, as if Harry had not even responded, "right from the beginning. We knew that you would need someone other than Hagrid and Cameron for emotional intimacy when things got low - and to look in the eyes."

Harry tried to look like he did not know what she was talking about.

Hermione pressed him, "You have been looking into her eyes, haven't you?"

"Well, okay, yes, but how did you …?"

"I told you – she was part of the plan. We knew. It was safe – she's mastered occlumency. How do you think she got so many detentions? It was deliberate! It was cover for her training. She could have avoided those: of course, she knows how to avoid detention! See, she always got detention with Snape. That was so she could take occlumency lessons without being detected. Oh, she was the perfect candidate. I only wish I had that kind of control. I do fine when there's a chance to think things through, but I get too confused when everything is happening around me. You remember how poorly I did at the Department of Mysteries. But Ginny, now she's just as cool as a ghost, no matter what happens. It was hard on her at first. She kept on getting thrown by it. That's how she went through the knees of her jeans so often. That's why it was always said that she had been scrubbing the floors - it explained why the knees of her jeans were so worn and her knees stayed bruised and scraped. But she was motivated and by December she had mastered occlumency. After that we only gave her the occasional detention so she could keep in practice. And we looked for the perfect opportunity, when you would be as emotionally low as you could be, when you desperately needed someone to provide you that emotional support that only a relationship like that can provide. When you disappeared in the castle after Dobby and Melony staged their fight, we knew that was the time."

"It was _all_ … planned?"

"Of course – Dobby and Melony's fight was timed for your arrival. In fact, to goblins the things he said about her qualify as pillowtalk, although the tone wasn't. And when Dobby yelled at you after you visited to see their goblet – all planned. I can't begin to tell you how he hated lying to you and yelling at you, but he was made to understand how his part was crucial to make the curse thoroughly convincing. I'm afraid he's been punishing himself terribly for it, even though we've tried to stop him. Even the Hogsmeade trip where you got paired off to explore caves with Ginny was planned. Not that Ron and I minded the date we had, and you two were a hoot showing up the way you did. It was so good to see you playing! We had to keep you going, Harry, but we also had to keep up the appearance of an ever-greater breakdown of our ability to function together. And it worked! Now that's all we have time for. You really need to get going."

Harry nodded numbly as he turned back toward the stairs. He held up the page from the first envelope, but he had trouble reading it as his eyes filled with tears.

There was a dull roar in Harry's ears as his thoughts tumbled over each other. "How could you have thought she would have loved you, Potter? You should have known something was up. You're the coach and the warrior – a compatriot. They had to press someone into service to pose as your girlfriend. Well, at least she agreed, that's what Hermione said. But this is war. People are called volunteers in war when they're not very willing at all. She probably just was looking for extra opportunities to take the glasses off. Everyone hated them, she said so herself. Besides, this helped the plan and would serve to protect her family - she loves them dearly. She said she'd do anything for her family. She'd lay down her life for her family. Compared to that, posing as Potter's girlfriend might not have seemed too awful. Hmf – no wonder she had turned around from her attitude during the summer – she was told she had to for her family and friends. It wasn't about you, Potter, except that 'Coach' had to be kept in the game. She's a fine soldier alright. I never suspected she didn't really love me. I guess it's a good thing I suppressed the legilemency – oh, that's right, she learned occlumency, spent hours with Snape, just so she could hide her real feelings about me. It wouldn't have done for Voldemort to have seen she didn't really care: that would have given up the whole plot. How could you be so foolish, Potter, to lose your heart like that? Every bad thing that's happened in years has been because of you. You don't deserve someone as wonderful as that."

Then Harry tried to tell himself, "Oh, well, it was for a good cause. She did her part: now I'll do mine." He knew that good magic depended on proper focus and he needed to move on. He thought those words, but he didn't really mean them. He felt angry, used, and abandoned.

Harry brushed away his tears. All around him people were rushing this way and that, still wearing their sunglasses to avoid giving away the strategies. Harry opened the page from envelope 1 – "When you are far enough away from the castle, you are strong enough to apparate where you will around the grounds. You need to get to Hagrid's cabin – we left a school flying broom in the broom closet in the Entry Hall. Leave the broom outside Hagrid's cabin. Someone else will need it; you won't. Hagrid's part of the plan has been explained to him and he will explain what you need to do to help him with his part."

Harry thought it must be something to do with Grawp. As he headed out the door, he was preceded by Justin Finch-Fletchley's platoon heading out together. They smiled and gave him thumbs-up, and then went trotting to the south end of the lake, skirting the hillocks to keep cover between themselves and the Forest. Harry looked at the bright sky when he got out the door, trotted briskly beyond the range of the castle's permanent anti-apparation charms, and then apparated to Hagrid's cabin. He knocked on the door.

The door flew open and Hagrid pulled him in. "Harry, you should have apparated right in – you knew I was expecting you."

"Sorry, Hagrid," said Harry quietly.

"Harry, what's the matter? You're not down about the battle, are you?"

"No, I guess everyone's right – it's time we faced them once and for all. There'll be a lot of injuries, probably deaths as well, but we would lose more dragging things out."

"From what I bin told – and I'm not in on everything, mind you - it's a brilliant plan. Ron and McMillan worked with Moody and aurors for hours and hours on the field strategy so the students and others could all be as safe and efficient as possible. So what's the problem?"

"Oh, it's nothing I suppose. It's just that … I guess it's just getting me down that the relationship with Ginny was just a sham to provide me emotional support."

"Now they didn't tell me about that part: I was just told about what I'm to do. Oh, and that there warn't no curse all along."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, well, Hermione just told me plenty about it. She was all excited about it – 'everything worked so well! Ginny was so brilliant!' Except I feel like a drain plug's been pulled on my heart."

"Well, o'course, Harry. But are yeh sure yeh understood Hermione right? She's brilliant and all, but she can get pretty wound up at times. I've seen the way Ginny looks at you, and though I couldn't see her eyes, I don't think anyone could fake that."

"No mistake, Hagrid. Hermione mapped it all out. Ginny's quite the actress. She sure had me going." Then he added bitterly, "But it's all for the greater good, and that's what I've wanted all along. So, what am I supposed to help you with?"

"Well, they told me that you're s'posed to apparate me to Aragog, so I can convince 'im to lead the acromantulas ag'inst the giants. I hate to attack me own kin, but they threw in with Voldemort, so it's their choice, not mine. I shouldn't have any trouble convincing Aragog once I tell him the giants are supporting the wizard that betrayed him and me so long ago. He's grumbled about that many times. He's wanted revenge all along, if we ever had the chance. Ron explained it all to me, but I told him that I didn't think you could take someone my size."

"Oh, you're no problem, Hagrid. It's not like we're going to London, or anything far away. It's just a few miles."

"Does it hurt?"

"What, apparating? Oh, that's right, you haven't had a chance to learn it yourself yet, and there aren't many people who could apparate you. No, it feels wonderful. Well, at least I like it. Cameron hates it. But then, he likes the Floo Network, and I hate that. Why do we need to apparate anyway?"

"Mostly to save time. There are teams assigned to fight the giants - can't tell you which ones - but it takes massed magical power to bring down a giant, and even then, unless we use the killing curse,"

"We aren't, are we?"

"Course not, Harry. Without that, though, they'll recover and be back in the battle after a time. We need the acromantulas as soon as possible – they're to kill the unconscious giants. Once Aragog puts out the call, it'll take most of an hour to gather the largest of his family, and then another two or more hours to reach the giants. The sooner we can start taking giants permanently out of the battle, the better."

"Okay, makes sense. I hope you don't mind if I don't stick around for long. Apparently I have other tasks to do."

"O'course. Ron said you would be leaving immediately. Oh, he also told me to apologize for him, but he didn't say why."

"He stunned me. Now that I know why, there's nothing to apologize for."

Hagrid looked puzzled. "Ron stunned you? I'll bite, why?"

"Once the dark forces had committed, our side needed me out of commission for a while so they could get ready to place the anti-apparation spell over the entire region. If I was aware that they were executing a plan, then Voldemort would know and could warn his people. So I had to be unconscious."

"That's a fine way to treat your leader."

"I'm no leader, Hagrid. I'm just the coach. It's okay, though: I can take a little pain to help us all out."

"Don't kid y'self, Harry – you might not be the commander or the strategist, but it's you everyone's looking up to. For anyone who's trained with you, it's you far more than Dumbledore we're taking our lead from. Everyone says they haven't worked hard enough until they can say they've worked as hard as you. It's kind of a joke amongst us troops, 'cause everyone knows nobody could give as much as you have."

"Thanks, Hagrid. That really helps get my focus back to where it needs to be. I've got to see this battle through before I can worry about relationships and such."

"Right then, Harry, I guess I'm as ready to get started on this battle as I ever will be. Let's get going. Can you take us direct to Aragog's lair?" said Hagrid, apprehensively.

"Of course, Hagrid. I've been there, remember. At least this time I know I can get out if I need to. Don't worry about apparation: the only odd thing is suddenly being where you need to be," replied Harry. "Take my hand."

Hagrid took his crossbow, a quiver of arrows, a belt pouch with several enormous biscuits (the right size for Hagrid), a five-gallon canteen, and a poncho of some magical creature's skin (Harry thought it was Horklump, but it was hard to tell since he had never seen one live). Harry noticed that Hagrid's hand was trembling as it enfolded Harry's entire hand. Harry could only close his hand around two of Hagrid's fingers, but it would be enough for the firm grip needed.

"Ready, Hagrid?" asked Harry.

"I s'pose," said Hagrid apprehensively.

"Not so hard, Hagrid – I'll need to use that hand. This won't hurt you."

With a crack they were gone from the cabin and standing in Aragog's clearing. There was a raucous clicking of pincers, until they were quieted by the deep rumble of Aragog's voice.

"Welcome, Hagrid, we have been expecting you."

"Greetin's Aragog. How'd you know I'd be comin'?"

"With a large family such as mine, it is important to know what is occurring throughout our domain. We inhabit a great area now and pass messages swiftly. We have been particularly watchful since the giants started arriving. There were several of our smaller members in your cabin when your instructions were given to you earlier. We know that you want us to help attack the giants. We have already begun to assemble to consider your request."

"Do you also know that the giants are serving the wizard who betrayed us over fifty years ago?" asked Hagrid.

"That I do, and my personal inclination is to assist, but there are concerns my brood has that must be answered, for they do not remember that time. A few things they will do on my command alone, such as leaving you and those with you alone; other decisions we make together."

"Alright then, let's get it out on the table," said Hagrid.

"First, the ancient evil of which our kind will not speak had left soon after the last time this human with you came here. But now that great evil has returned. We know you had a hand in it."

"Oh, well, Harry here and his friends are keeping it as a pet. They wanted something with a little more zest than just a garter snake. Just like when I was a boy and wanted to raise a spider more interestin' than a simple tarantula."

"Your comparison is not lost on me, Hagrid, but that particular creature appalls us more than any other, and we believe there is a further purpose. We demand honesty in an alliance."

"May I speak, Aragog?" said Harry.

"Certainly, young friend of Hagrid, if you may shed light."

"You're right, it's not just a pet, and in all honesty, except for Hagrid, we all find it just as hideous and terrifying as do you. We enlisted Hagrid's help in hatching it because it was the only method we knew of for eliminating dementors. The stare of the bas- … erm, the creature you despise will petrify dementors so that we do not have to fight them off again and again. That is our only purpose and when that purpose is fulfilled, it will be destroyed."

"No, Harry, yeh can't kill it!" said Hagrid, in shock.

"Hagrid, you've already petrified yourself once with it – it's just too dangerous."

Aragog chuckled like distant thunder echoing through the forest. "Hagrid, your affection for living things knows no bounds. Your young friend is right – the creature is far too dangerous and not just to us. Can you assure us that we will not be exposed to it if we join the battle?"

"The strategies are being kept from me, as my mind is linked to Lord Voldemort's, but I know from his mind that the dementors are to the south of the lake, attacking along with the dark wizards. They are being kept far from the giants because the giants could not protect themselves from the dementors. I know the people who devised the strategy would have also realized that, so the creature you fear is either being kept in the castle still or it will be brought to where they will encounter dementors, at the south end of the forest, far from where you are being asked to go."

"Hagrid," said Aragog, "do you trust the wizards who have planned this campaign?"

"The only ones I'd trust more are Professer Dumbledore and Harry here."

"You are sometimes misled, Hagrid, as when you were asked to breed the creature, but you will be with us, so we know you are asking us to trust no more than you yourself are. We will accept this assurance. The second concern is that my brood wishes to know if there can be any sort of reward for its efforts."

"What sort of reward are they looking for?" asked Hagrid.

"Meat! Too often you have prevented us from removing the bodies of creatures you have held affection for, though they were already dead. We do not understand such behavior."

"Well, Aragog, we humans get kind of attached to other beings and creatures, and that affection lasts past their death."

"Hagrid, you are not fully human, no matter how you call yourself. You ask us to kill giants – our kind eats what we kill. Would you prevent us?"

"No, Aragog. In fact, it would actually be doing everyone a favor if your brood removed the giants' bodies. The giants' religion views them as having arisen from the earth and needing to return to the earth to restore themselves after death. That is done by the bodies being left out to be consumed by the creatures of the field and forest. Your taking of their bodies represents fulfillment of their notions of a proper disposal. It would also help the rest of us because it would be a terrible undertaking to dispose of hundreds of giants' corpses."

There was a sudden excited clicking by the assembled spiders at the thought of all those enormous mounds of fresh meat.

"We have not had such a feast in many years. At this point, I am not sure that I could stop my children from attacking if I wanted to."

"Tha's great, Aragog, but please tell 'em not to attack anyone who isn't larger than me, and also to leave m'brother Grawp and Madame Maxime alone."

"Those would be the giant who has been in these woods for over two years and the half-giantess who walks the woods with you?"

"Tha's right; she'll be working with him to help slow down the giants so we can get an easier shot at them."

"We know them. They will not be attacked. But if they are killed by others, we will take the bodies."

"Agreed for Grawp. That would be as he would wish it," said Hagrid. "Maxime has been living as a human – leave her alone."

"Done. A most civilized understanding," said Aragog. "The colony will be ready to depart in fifteen minutes, as you reckon time, Hagrid. As they assemble, I will be giving instructions in our tongue. You may wait by the stream and refresh yourselves, then the brood will follow you to battle. I myself will be unable to go in my blindness, but they understand your speech, and within limitations they will heed you."

"Thanks, Aragog. C'mon, Harry. Let's get a drink at the stream. You won't never taste better water."

"Alright, Hagrid, I can do that while I check my next message, but I'm afraid I really can't take long," said Harry.

As they walked to the nearby stream, the spiders of every size parted to leave them a path. They were particularly careful not to squash any of their new allies, nor to do anything to the larger Acromantulas which would cause a violent response. Harry waited until they were at stream's edge to open the next envelope. Inside there was a message and an envelope with another piece of parchment wrapped around it.

The message read: "The goblins have been expecting to join the battle for weeks now. Grishnack will be in Gringotts' lobby. He insisted on your appearance to rally the goblins. You are to give him the envelope without having opened it. The parchment around the envelope tells you where to lead Grishnack so that all the goblins can assemble."

"Well, ya see, Harry. Last year, ya helped out the goblins from Fudge's attack, and this year it comes full circle."

Harry nodded. "Well, that's not the reason I did it, but I'm happy for any help we can get. I'd better leave immediately. You've got everything under control here."

"Right, Harry. I'll see you later, prob'ly after the battle."

Harry hugged Hagrid, who hugged him back.

"Be careful, Hagrid."

"I will, but don't you worry about me – look what I'll be surrounded by: thousands of acromantulas, some bigger'n a centaur. Take care of yourself."

"I will, Hagrid." Then Harry disappeared with a pop.


	54. The Battle Joined

Chapter 54 The Battle Joined

Harry apparated to an empty alcove of Gringotts' lobby. Looking around, Harry drank in the aura of normalcy about Gringotts: there was no apparent war training or preparations or hunkering down. He knew that this was only appearance. The goblins had been participating in patrolling Diagon Alley and repelling attacks along with the wizards of the area. They took the night shift and the deep shadowed areas since they could not tolerate sunlight. The goblins were always defense oriented anyway, since the trust people placed in a Gringotts account was based on the high degree of security the goblins provided. Their watchfulness had only been heightened since last year's attack, and he had learned from Melony that they had hired some of the wizards who had gathered in Diagon Alley in case some form of heliopath was again employed against them. But here in the lobby, everything appeared normal – all business.

Within seconds, Harry heard his name called in a deep gruff voice.

"Harry Potter!" called Grishnack. "We have been looking for you. It is time, then?"

"Yes, Grishnack. The attack is on."

Grishnack went to a small device on the wall not unlike a muggle fire alarm box. But when he smashed the glass on it, a voice rang out throughout the lobby and the underground of Gringotts, saying "Potter needs us." Immediately, the bank was a tumult as female goblins, who could defend their homes, including the bank under which their homes were excavated, but were ineffective away from them, apparated from the tunnels below and ran to substitute themselves for the goblin men, who sprang for the various places around the bank where they had stowed their spell-resistant hauberks and wicked-looking short sinuous swords in scabbards. They were all assembling in an enormous conference room just off from the lobby. The whole process took only a few minutes.

Harry was amazed as he walked to the room with Grishnack. Grishnack smiled, as much as a goblin can, and said proudly, "You are surprised, Potter? Why? Last year we said we would stand by you whenever you needed us. Every goblin here is thoroughly aware that we would be dead right now but for your courage and kindness. Goblins are not sentimental in the human sense, but we value the loyalty of those who show themselves to be friends and pay it back tenfold."

When all the goblin men old enough to fight had assembled, Grishnack addressed them.

"The day we have been preparing for has come. The enemy has committed himself, and attacks Potter and his friends. It is the same enemy that was ultimately behind the attempt to exterminate us all last year. It is the same enemy that exterminated all but one of a hullabaloo over two decades ago. Potter comes for our help.

"I know I need not, but I will remind you that we were all left powerless before the heliopaths last year until Potter and his friend Dobby, whom we now know as Gargamel, came and destroyed them. In the aftermath, Potter was attacked and suffered grievous wounds. Despite this, when my dear daughter Melony was mortally injured, he kept her alive with his tears and his touch until a goblin healer could restore her.

"He has shed blood in goblin halls to save goblin lives and shed tears for love of a goblin sister. We owe him our lives and he is a true goblin friend. He needs us and we will prove to him today the value of goblin friendship. Potter, what are we asked to do?"

Harry felt a bit abashed after such a stirring speech focused on him, but he cleared his throat and began, "The plans are in this envelope. I am to bring you, Grishnack, to the assembly point so that you can apparate there and conduct the operations described in the plans. There are reasons I have not been told what the plans are, but there is no time to explain. Hogwarts faces over 4000 sorcerers, a thousand dementors, and several hundred giants. I just want to encourage you to trust the directions. They were prepared by the same team that directed the Hogwarts' students in the Battle of Gringotts last year. You will recall that there was only one Hogwarts casualty in that battle, besides my own injuries, and no enemy escapes. May today bring the same success – to both sides."

"Show the enemy the same mercy he has shown to goblins!" shouted Grishnack.

Harry understood that, as did all present, to mean to be utterly ruthless. With that, Grishnack pounded his chest with the hilt of his sword and cried out "Let not your swords return to the scabbard unbloodied!" The entire assembly roared as one in response the goblin battle cry "Fight like mothers!"

Harry checked the parchment around the envelope as he handed the envelope to Grishnack.

"Ah, it's a map to the point. It's a cave. I scouted this cave out late last year. Now I know why. I remember this one. It's clean, dry and spacious, and it has three entrances into deep woods. You won't have any trouble with sunlight from here. Grishnack, are you ready?"

Grishnack extended his hand for Harry to take. "Grishnack has never let a wizard apparate him anywhere, but I will allow you to do so, Potter. The rest of you count to fifteen before following in groups of ten. I am ready, Potter."

And with that, Harry grasped his hand, and apparated the two of them to the cave, which was located on the far side of the woods from Hogwarts, toward the south. Knowing he had little time before the cave began to fill with goblins, Harry took his leave of Grishnack, again wishing the goblins well, and left the cave.

In the shade of the deep forest, Harry opened the last envelope. He was surprised by the message: "Apparate to the south side of the lake and look for flares. You are the only student who can evacuate the wounded and captured by apparation, and we cannot spare fighters from the lines. Apparation will allow you to do the evacuation work of 100 students. They are marked by magical flares color-coded as follows: red sparks for friendlies, green sparks for enemy, and injuries are marked yellow sparks for lightly hurt or unhurt, blue sparks for badly hurt, but able to recover or be restored, and purple sparks for the dead or nearly so. Take away their wands, if they still have them, and apparate them back to the front steps of the castle, where we will have teams of healers, helpers and guards to take care of patients, prisoners and wands. Keep an eye on the battlefield; help if needed, but only if it's out of control. Remember that the platoons and squadrons have learned to fight as teams and they are more powerful working together than any one wizard on his own, and your presence in the battle may actually hinder our forces. Rescue and evacuation are critical and we are prepared for the fight. You can use your mirror to communicate with Remus Lupin who will be at the north battlefield, but who will be in touch with Ernie as well as Ron."

Harry went where he was told and started walking stealthily into the forest, looking for magical flares. Apparently, Voldemort's army had sent some scouts out ahead of the main group, as Harry soon saw several green and yellow magical flares near each other. Approaching he found witches and wizards disabled and bound. They were being overseen by Hugh Douglas, a Scots first year in Hufflepuff who had a severe limp when he came to Hogwarts. Gathering and guarding the injured and captured was a critical job he could do despite moving slower than others. In one hand he held a broom: he was one of the very few first years allowed a broom, so he could keep up with others with his damaged leg. He held the prisoners' wands so they could not be used should the prisoners revive before being evacuated.

"Hugh!" called Harry. "How goes the battle so far?"

"Only enemy prisoners so far as I know. Got twenty o' them here, Coach. The few students hit so far we were able to unhex right away. I was hearin' some fiercer fighting a few minutes ago o'er there to the southeast. Now that you're here to take this lot, I'll work m'way over there and start gatherin' together more. This is the north end of this part o' the battle; you'll probably find someone else guarding others on the far south."

"You're out here without anyone who can do a Patronus," observed Harry.

"The dementors're all being steered toward the center of the line, where your mate Dean Thomas has been handling 'em with some sort of special wand. Han't seen it m'self, but m'captain, Susan Bones, told me 'bout it afore she assigned me here. Here're the wands, Harry. I need to get to work – I mean to pull m' weight. See ya in a few."

And with that, Hugh set off on his broom toward the southeast, keeping low, looking for sparks and levitating prisoners to a central location. Harry placed the wands in a spare pocket of his robe and grabbed a hand each of two bound captives. It was no surprise that these were not people he recognized – the Death Eaters would not be at the very front. He apparated as close to the castle steps as the permanent charms would allow.

He found a well-organized operation there. The prisoners were quickly checked for injuries and disabling spells, unhexed if need be for mutual safety and levitated into the castle. Harry assumed they were taken either to secure facilities in the dungeons or to the Ministry by Floo Network.

Professor McGonagall was there and greeted him. "Excellent, Potter, you didn't tarry. Are there many more?"

"Eighteen more in the first group, and more groups being assembled. I haven't seen any student casualties yet," he replied and then disapparated before she could even respond. He appeared back again in seconds with a couple of witches, and repeated the process 8 more times. As he went back and forth he began to understand the importance of his job: a first or second year could only take one prisoner at a time and it was a fifteen minute walk with a levitated body from the battlefield to the castle. Harry had done in less than 2 minutes the job that would have taken a half hour for twenty students. Certainly at this point of the battle, they needed competent bodies on the line more than they needed a single fighter, no matter how capable.

Harry's involvement in the battle went on like this for well over an hour and a half. It took longer to find each group of prisoners as they were found deeper and deeper in the forest. Increasingly he found injured students among the captured and injured enemies. He gradually got the picture of the battle formation: a wide 'V' which connected to the lake and surrounded the south end of the forest from the west, while the goblins attacked in a line from the east driving the enemy toward the center.

Harry found that the DA had made preparations for the battle in the times he had been away – there were hidden entrenchments and other prepared battle positions, allowing the students safe positions to pin the enemy down as others advanced. He also found evidence of a number of booby-traps: some like Hermione's explosion, others less dramatic but still effective. He even found the remains of several of Fred and George's portable swamps modified into portable quicksands: one still had a hand extending from it.

The pattern of injuries confirmed that they had eliminated the least dangerous sorcerers and were coming across better and better fighters. Still he was removing many more enemies than students. It wrenched at him to see that the students had been hit with life-threatening injurious spells, though the prisoners were almost entirely disabled with removable disabling hexes. Harry focused on removing those with the greatest need for healer attention first. It pleased him to think that in the midst of all this fighting, he was helping to save lives.


	55. Reaping the Whirlwind

Chapter 55 Reaping the Whirlwind

Harry was keeping very busy with evacuations when he got a call on his mirror from Remus.

"Harry, can you be spared for a while over there?"

"If I'm needed that badly, Remus. I've mostly been removing prisoners, not too many injuries so far. How's it going over there?"

"Bad, Harry. The plan was for each squadron to attack a giant at a time in formation so that firepower could be sufficiently concentrated to knock them out. Then the acromantulas could kill the downed giants safely. That was hard enough but workable when we thought they would be fairly spread out. We knew it wouldn't be easy because the trees are all at least twice as tall as the giants, so we had to keep formation while weaving in and out of the branches. But they've been in close formation, hacking a path through the forest. It's very hard to concentrate spells all on the same giant when they are so close to each other, so we've only knocked out a few. We also have taken some casualties. We've been able to use the dragons to harass the giants with fire from behind without setting the woods on fire, and Maxime and Grawp have hindered their path, but they just keep coming."

"That's not like giants to fight so closely and in coordination."

"That's what we thought so we made some close passes to look in their eyes – they're under the Imperius Curse to make them cooperate this way."

"That means there's an enemy sorcerer somewhere near enough to control them."

"Yeah, and we looked. He's not in among them and we would have seen someone on a broom. At the rate they're going they'll break through the edge of the forest in no more than an hour. Harry, if they break through to the heath, they'll be able to attack the castle or circle behind Ernie's forces and pin them down."

"I have an idea," said Harry. "Pick me up. I'm right beneath you."

Sure enough, Harry apparated directly underneath Remus's broom. Remus set down and picked him up to show him the situation. They flew high over the forest. This would have been foolish over the other battle front, but height was an ally against the giants, who could not cast spells but only throw things. Harry was able to see what fast progress the giants had made. They also saw the progress of the Acromantulas behind the giants and could see they could not arrive in time to stop the giants before they made it to open terrain.

"Set me down in that glade, Remus, then tell Ron to get all of the squadrons and dragons out of here for fifteen minutes. They can evacuate the wounded on their way back to the castle, but they have to hurry. It's not going to be flying weather for awhile."

Once Harry was down, Remus set off to signal Ron. Harry pulled both of his wands and thrusting them in the air, began making large circles with them in opposite directions. He thrashed the air in ever more violent strokes, sending up two enormous black thunderheads, spinning in contrary directions. Then Harry himself began twirling round and round, continuing to whip the twin storms up larger and larger, and spinning and entwining around each other. The thunderheads began to rotate around each other, drawing closer and closer.

Soon after he had begun his full-body twirling, Harry noticed Remus returning. "I told everyone to clear out!" Harry shouted over the howling winds which had begun.

"We're too close to the giants! There has to be a wizard out here! I've got to watch your back!" yelled Remus against the storms.

"This is not delicate magic here, Remus, I can't watch out for you," shouted Harry.

"Don't! I know the risks. Keep going no matter what – you have to stop the giants' progress. I'll scout around."

Remus darted in and out of the branches surrounding the glade where Harry was working. The winds were getting fiercer and fiercer and soon Remus realized that Harry was creating a massive tornado. The winds were making it hard to steer the broom and he frequently bumped into branches and tree trunks. As he passed through one set of branches fairly high up, he felt something catch on his robes. At first all he thought was that he had snagged on something. He thought "So what, my robes have been in tatters before," but suddenly he felt his broom get much heavier and harder to handle. Just as suddenly he felt an arm reach around his waist and an icy cold hand clasping his throat.

"My master thought this silver hand would prove useful against you, werewolf!" shouted Peter Pettigrew in Remus's ear. "Go into the clearing!"

Remus entered the glade, still flying, and Harry faltered in his storm-making until Remus waved him on.

"Potter, he's so noble – he wants you to finish your magic. Do you want to watch another of your father's friends die as you stand by uselessly?"

Again Harry faltered and the storms began to lighten, though still fierce. Remus waved him on, but Peter clamped tighter onto Remus's neck. Remus was beginning to lose consciousness, when suddenly they heard a tremendous scream from above. In a blaze of white feathers and metal, all the more pronounced with the bright sunlight illumination and the backdrop of violent black stormclouds, Hedwig was diving upon Peter from his right, the side his magic hand was on. He released his grip around Remus's waist with the other hand and tried to reach around to ward off the enraged owl, but was unable to get it up in time.

Hedwig plunged her metal talons into Peter's eye sockets, blinding him and then began raking his face. He knocked her away and grabbed hold of Remus again. Harry renewed the vigor with which he conjured the storm. Hedwig soared and stooped in attack once more, again attacking toward the magical hand. Hearing the owl's screams as it dove, Peter released his grip on Remus's throat and tried to thrash out at Hedwig. She grabbed the silver hand in her titanium talon. She crushed the silver hand and wrenched it off of Pettigrew's arm, throwing him from the broom.

Pettigrew was in a panic after all this, which accounts for his next action. In all circumstances previously, his reaction to every situation requiring a fast surreptitious escape was to transform into a rat and skedaddle. Finding himself blinded, bleeding profusely from where his metal hand had been torn off and falling from some sixty feet up, he did just that. If he had thought things through, he would not have, for he did so in the presence of an extremely agile and vengeful magical owl. Hedwig wheeled around one more time and caught Wormtail the rat in the air in her natural talon, piercing him through the chest. Then she headed off toward the owlery tower, her prizes of war grasped proudly in her talons.

Remus was still gasping for breath as he set his broom down hard near Harry's feet and rolled to the edge of the glade to recover. Harry continued the twirling dance with ever-greater energy and soon what was perhaps the greatest tornado ever seen by humans in Scotland was touching down, following right up the path already cut by the giants, scattering them every which way and breaking any remaining effect of the Imperius Curse. Perhaps a hundred were killed or disabled immediately by crashing into trees and hillsides, and just as the tornado began to lift and dissipate, the broom squadrons returned to attack the now separated giants one at a time. As Ron's squadron passed over the glade, he exchanged thumbs-ups with Harry.

Harry ran over to Remus and helped him to sit up. They could still see Hedwig making celebratory circles around the owlery.

"As rotten as he turned out, I cannot but remember sadly what good friends we were so long ago, Harry."

"I'm sure, Remus. I'm sorry."

"Don't be – it had to happen," said Remus with a sigh. "That's some bird you've got there, Harry."

"Hagrid knows how to pick the best," said Harry, marveling. "She deserved that one, you know."

"How so?"

"I saw it in his mind just before she ripped his eyes – he was used as the bait to lure her when her leg was torn off. He recognized her in attack as she dove."

"Well, I guess there's only one thing I can say about that then."

"Yeah, Remus?"

Remus shouted, "BON APPETIT, HEDWIG!"

They laughed together.

"What'll you take for her?" asked Remus, grinning.

"What – you want to buy her from me?" said Harry bemusedly, "What do you think she's worth?"

"Aw, Harry," said Remus with a smile, "You know I don't have that kind of money."

"Gringotts doesn't have that kind of money. I'll share her with you, but I'd never sell her. But if I don't make it through all this, she's yours."

"Harry, don't talk like that!" scolded Remus sharply, which caused him to cough and choke.

"Enough chatter," said Harry, grabbing Remus's broom in one hand and his wrist with the other. "It's time to get you up to Madam Pomfrey."

And with a crack, they disapparated, leaving the giants who were still standing to the squadrons and those disabled to the acromantulas.


	56. The Battle of the Forbidden Forest

Chapter 56 – The Battle of the Forbidden Forest

With the giants scattered and vulnerable to the broom squadrons and dragons and the acromantula colony on the way, Harry was able to turn his attentions back to the south battlefield. He found the noose tightening around the dark forces. He continued to evacuate captives and the injured, occasionally now finding dead bodies for both sides. As he shuttled back and forth between the castle and the battlefield, he learned that the students' army had met on both sides with the goblin army, so that the dark forces had become completely encircled. This was confirmed to Harry as he more and more came across goblin casualties; these were evacuated to the castle where Melony's goblin clinic was fully equipped with the supplies needed to treat the particular needs of goblins. A number of goblin healers were also brought in from Gringotts as the workload increased. As the morning and then the afternoon wore on, the students and the goblins slowly and carefully confined the dark forces into a smaller and smaller area.

On one of his return trips to the castle, Harry found Ron sitting on the steps, being tended to by Hermione. He immediately ran over.

"Ron, are you okay?"

Ron nodded shakily, and then gave a huge shudder.

"The acromantulas arrived," explained Hermione, as sympathetically as she could while suppressing laughter. "He freaked out over them."

"I HATE SPIDERS!" growled Ron, suppressing his desire to scream it out.

"Ron, why did you develop a strategy that required you to call spiders in to the battle where you would be?"

"Because it was the best strategy, Harry. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. The spiders would be slaughtered if they tried to attack the wizards, but they're tearing the giants apart – literally. The whole reason for the squadrons was to fight giants. We knew when we formed the squadrons that we'd be target practice if we tried to fight against wizards. I may only be a passable Keeper, but I fly well enough, so I took the squadrons. Ernie isn't so good on a broom, so he had the army. They needed back-up from a magical force, so that's where the goblins were asked to help. I just had to stuff my fear and get on with the giants and deal with the spiders as long as I could take it. By Merlin's beard, I hate spiders! But I'm grateful for the help. When I spied Hagrid arriving at the head of the column, I could have kissed him, until I looked at the host behind him – then I nearly puked."

For a while, the larger ones were finding the giants that had been first knocked out. Four of them could kill a giant and place him or her on the backs of a team of medium-sized spiders, who started returning them to their lair. But as they cleaned up the scattered giants, they were closer and closer to the squadrons. On a pass about ten minutes ago, I had to dodge a giantess's club and I hit a tree. I went spinning right into the center of about forty spiders the size of Hagrid. They came at me with their nasty wiggly legs and picked me up. They set me on my feet and I could swear they waved at me. I didn't care. I almost lost it right there, but I kicked off on my brrom and got out of there as quick as I could. I knew I had to get back here; I had nothing more to give as a leader"

"Is anybody in charge of the squadrons now?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, we had a fallback plan all along. I knew I would only be able to take so much. Ginny took over for me and my squadron. She's not too shabby on strategy herself, and we had already set the plans."

"Yeah, she's quite a soldier," grumbled Harry. "Anything for the victory."

"She said if I saw you to say thanks for the tornado and what an awesome job that was," said Ron, clearly not understanding Harry's tone.

Harry just nodded. "I've got to go evacuate some more people. I'll check on you in a bit."

"Do that, Harry," said Ron. "It's good to see you bearing up so well – and not thinking you have to take all the danger yourself."

"You people picked the fight. I'm just clean-up," said Harry with a smirk.

"Yeah, right, Harry," said Ron grinning, "like you wouldn't jump right in if you saw someone to fight."

"See you in a few minutes, Harry," said Hermione.

Harry made another ten evacuation round trips, then checked on Ron again. A potion to relieve his heebie-jeebies had been brought out, which had him back to his usual self.

"Feeling better, Ron?"

"Oh, there you are, Harry. Of course. Never better. Getting the best care possible," said Ron, affectionately patting Hermione's hand. "How about a lift?"

"Where to?" asked Harry.

"Fortescue's – I fancy an ice cream cone right now! The battlefield, you gnome! I can't fight the giants, but I can make myself useful with Ernie's platoons."

"No need to get snippy," laughed Harry. "Ready?"

"One second," said Ron, who turned to give Hermione a lingering kiss and hug. Harry didn't begrudge them this, but it made him feel all the emptier that he didn't have anyone as he had thought.

"Ready, mate," said Ron, extending his hand.

Harry grabbed his wrist quite abruptly and disapparated to the hilltop rill from which Ernie was directing the tightening of the cordon.

"Hi, Ron, Coach," greeted Ernie grimly, then grinning. "I take it the spiders have arrived."

"Like the cavalry in a cowboy movie," replied Ron.

"You've been to muggle cinemas?" asked Harry.

"Sure, Harry, muggles are good storytellers. I love going into town to catch a flick when I can."

"Hey, Ernie," said Harry, "I always pictured Neville with the basilisk wand – why'd you have Dean carry it?"

"Shh, don't say the 'b'-word – only the leadership knows what it is. We didn't want to panic people. As for who's carrying it, we talked a long while about that. There are two things that turned it. Thomas is much better with his hands: more coordinated and ambidextrous, so he could handle the basilisk wand with one hand and still fight like a wizard with the other. He's gotten confused a few times and petrified some dark witches and wizards, but none of are too fussed about that. Also, Longbottom's not very tall, so when he holds it up, one of us could accidentally look into it. Thomas is nearly two meters tall, so with it angled upward, there's not a chance any of the rest of us would be looking down the wand, but the dementors are plenty tall to get petrified that way. I'm sure you've seen them around – he's been a busy fellow..."

"Yeah, they're lined up almost to the edge of the forest from here," said Harry, "first time I saw one of them, I conjured my patronus before realizing it was petrified. There must be hundreds of them."

"Yeah, we haven't seen any in over an hour now. We think we've got all that were here. I wonder if that's all of them."

"No," said Harry, "He's got a contingent guarding the island where he makes his headquarters."

"Wow, it's good to have you as a spy, Harry," said Ernie.

"I'll trade," said Harry.

"No, thanks, I've enough to deal with."

Just then there was a massive boom and they saw an outbreak of extremely intense fighting to their far left. It appeared that the remaining dark forces had massed to punch a hole through the weakest spot they could find and try to regroup with the giants, either for a last stand or an escape.

"Harry," shouted Ernie, "Ron and I will take care of things here. Get back to the castle and mobilize the adults to meet them if they break through to open ground."

"Right. Be careful," said Harry as he disapparated.

Arriving at the castle steps, he found Moody, Dawkins and Snape discussing the battle thus far.

"They're trying to break through. There are only a few hundred left at most," shouted Harry to them, "but it's their best. They're headed northwest toward the castle, around the southwest shore of the lake, but Ernie thinks they're headed up to the giants!"

Moody reacted first. "We've already assembled forces out in the heath, Potter, and we can get some more forces to go out to meet them. You call Lupin and let him know. Then head back out to where they had been and gather some forces to comb for any stragglers – the goblins and centaurs will be excellent for that."

Snape and Dawkins had already run to raise additional fighters. Harry found a relatively quiet spot and called Remus and told him.

"Thanks for letting us know, Harry. If they get here they won't find many friends. The giants are nearly all mopped up. As soon as we're done here, we'll be there to help."

Harry apparated to Ernie's makeshift headquarters to report.

"Good. They'll meet plenty of fresh fighters there. I'm sure all the aurors want to get involved in the fighting to earn rank. Ron, you and Harry get with the goblins to start the mop-up of the forest. We don't want any surprises while our backs are turned. Let the centaurs know what's up if you meet with any of them – Moody's right, they'll be just as interested in clearing out the forest completely. They probably want to survey the damage to their home anyway."

With that Ernie took off to the northwest, where most of his platoons had already gone in pursuit of the remaining dark forces, picking them off from the rear.

"It's gone well, Harry," said Ron.

"I suppose, but there have been a lot of casualties."

"Are there many dead?"

"I've recovered at least three dozen students' bodies and about the same of goblin bodies; I've passed by ten times that number of enemy bodies, after making sure they were dead. I've found a couple of dead centaurs, as well. It's grisly business."

"Nobody said it was going to be pretty. But letting them pick us off slowly would have been ten times worse, and there'd be no end in sight."

"Oh, you're right, but is there any end in sight?" asked Harry.

"He's not coming, is he?"

"No, he doesn't really mind sacrificing pretty much anyone he had sent here. There's only one wizard that matters to him."

"It must be sorry to live like that," said Ron. "I can't imagine living without my family and you and Hermione and, you know, all our friends."

"Trust me, it is, and he doesn't even see how sorry it is. He thinks we're all idiots to care."

"Well, let's go find the goblin forces."

"I can feel their concentration of magical powers – I'll apparate us there."

"Leave a little distance, Harry, I don't want to surprise those guys – they're meaner than a teased hippogriff in battle. I'm betting we'll find hundreds of dead wizards on that side of the battlefield. They don't believe in taking prisoners."

"I know. They had a few issues with Voldemort. Let's go."

And with that Harry grabbed Ron and apparated a good distance behind the goblin battle lines. They called out from behind a tree and proved who they were. They were then greeted jubilantly. The goblins agreed on the importance of scouring the woods, and even said they would not execute wounded enemy fighters. This went against traditional goblin practice, but they had agreed the year before to work within the Ministry and its rules, and accepted the necessity. The goblins went about the operation as systematically as they pursued banking.


	57. The One He'd Miss the Most

Chapter 57 The One He'd Miss the Most

Harry and Ron set off through the woods toward the castle on foot. There was ample force available to meet the remaining enemy fighters. It was about 5 p.m. Enough light filtered through the trees that they only needed to keep the sun at about 10-11 o'clock to guide toward the Hogwarts' side of the forest. They were wary, but able to maintain something of a stroll. Then as they crested one hill, Harry caught sight of something that made him pull Ron down with him in a crouch.

"LeStrange!" he whispered.

"Bellatrix?" hissed Ron, and Harry nodded. "Why isn't she with the rest of the vipers?"

"I don't know, unless she's hunting me. I'm about the only quarry here that Voldemort really worries about."

"Well, let's just apparate away then," whispered Ron.

"Nope, I'm going to go try and get myself killed," said Harry.

"Oh, okay, then," said Ron.

"Aren't you going to argue with me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"In the seven years I've known you, how many times have you put yourself in a position to get killed?"

"I've lost count."

"And yet you've failed every time. It's the one thing you can't do. You couldn't get yourself killed if you were a hog animagus in an abattoir."

"Very funny," said Harry. "Well, do you want to know the plan?"

"Should I?"

"Yes," replied Harry.

"Okay, then – what's the plan?"

"I'm going to face her and force her to try to kill me. I'll ward off anything that won't kill. If she tries to kill me, Voldemort will have to arrive to stop it, because if she kills me, she destroys his power, too."

"Well, of course! And you were trying to make me think you were going to do something stupid – you're just challenging the deadliest dark wizard in history to a duel."

"Exactly."

"Are you ready for him?"

"Well, I know what's in his mind, so I can react before he even acts. I'm fast. My stamina is good. I haven't really tired myself out all day. And Dumbledore says I can do this. After all everyone else has done, I reckon it's time for me to step up to my destiny."

"You need me to do anything?'

"Yeah, if she actually succeeds in killing me, fight her; I'm pretty sure you can take her. If Voldemort shows up, same thing – you take her on so I don't have to fight both. No holding back – if he shows up, we'll be setting to immediately because we both know what each other are thinking. If I can't get her to try to kill me, I'll eventually just disable her."

"Okey-dokey."

Harry smiled inwardly. Only Ron could understand him well enough to be flippant about something as insanely dangerous as this. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped over the crest of the hill.

"Hello, Bella!" Harry called.

She wheeled around and yelled "Stupefy," but Harry had disapparated before she had finished pronouncing the spell. With a crack, he appeared behind her and as she wheeled around, he kicked her feet out from under her.

"Potter!" she spat, as she jumped up, "How did you do that – I've been fighting this anti-apparation spell all day."

Harry smiled calmly. "Only the strongest sorcerers can overcome it – you just don't measure up, Bella."

"So you think you're better than me, little baby Potter?"

"Oh, I am," said Harry, disapparating again and appearing again behind her, knocking her off her feet again, this time stepping on her hair when she fell and kicking her hard in the head with the other foot. He wanted her to lose all sense of judgment. She screeched like a banshee, as she tried to get up. "Expelliarmus!" yelled Harry, and her wand flew to him as she was thrown against a tree with an audible thud.

"Hmm!" said Harry. "What a position we're in now, Bella. How shall I make you suffer before I kill you?"

"Hah, Potter, we both know you haven't the stomach for the Unforgiveables."

"I can live with that, Bella, but there are other ways to cause suffering as you so richly deserve. DEBRIDO!" Harry waved his wand at her left hand as he pronounced the spell and all of the skin was stripped from it, leaving raw exposed flesh and nerves. She gasped with the pain of the air hitting the exposed nerves. Then Harry waved his wand at the forest floor, causing dozens of rough sticks to attack her exposed flesh. She could no longer hold back the scream this time.

"So what do you want, Potter, to torture me for killing the animagus?"

"Not really – I want you to kill me."

"It would be my pleasure!"

"No doubt, but I know you're under orders not to."

"What makes you think that?"

Harry laughed in a very annoyingly superior way. "Because I saw it happen, Bella! I can see anything your master sees and he can see what I see. Don't you understand? His failed killing curse when I was a baby linked us forever. Our minds are as one."

"I don't believe you!"

"You're lying, Bella, you know it's so," said Harry in the same tone Voldemort used when he caught someone in a lie. "You see, I have his powers, too. We share them, we both draw from them. He is a legilemens, so I am a legilemens; he is a parseltongue, so I am a parseltongue. He is watching you through my eyes right now. He sees you for the weak and pitiful failure you are. But there's something else you should know, something he never wanted any of his pets to know. If one of us dies, except at the hand of the other, the one left alive would lose all his powers. He'd be left at best a squib and probably dead if you killed me. And after today's battle, even as pitiful as you are, you would probably be the most powerful dark sorcerer in the world."

Harry let that sink in for a few seconds, and then went on with a knowing smile, "Ah, yes, I can see how that tempts you. After all, Dumbledore can't live forever, and he's too noble to take the steps that would allow him to. Once he's gone, who could stop you doing whatever you wanted? And after all, why would you want to go on serving that deformed half-blood for eternity."

"Liar!" she screamed.

"No, Bella, and I warn you not to talk to me that way again. I have been patient thus far. DEBRIDO!" said Harry, ripping the skin off her right hand. "Things can get much, much worse. I see what he knows – I know his origins. Not only was his father a muggle, but his father rejected him as unworthy of the family name. And he was and so he remains. And so you pass your time – house-elf for a half-blood! Where's your tea towel? No wonder he requires you to wear real clothes – your exposed body would make any man vomit. So here you go, servile little house elf: here's your wand! You can continue as a slave, or kill me and have unchallenged power."

He threw the wand to her and she caught it, wincing with the pain as it struck her exposed flesh. And the battle was on as she tried to disable him. Harry defended and defended to ward off her attacks, taunting her all the while. Finally he shot steam at her exposed, raw flesh. Then even as she screamed, she began to pronounce "Avada Kedavra!" As she did however, Voldemort appeared between her and Harry and the spell instead struck Nagini, which Voldemort had carried with him as the only sort of shield available to stop the killing curse.

Ron leapt out from behind the hill, yelling "Expelliarmus!" The spell threw LeStrange back, but she was able to hold onto her wand. She and Ron immediately set in to dueling.

"You wanted to call out Lord Voldemort, Potter?" said Voldemort, "Be careful what you wish for."

"Talk, talk, talk," taunted Harry to try to rankle him, "You are too much enamored of your own voice, Tom."

Harry apparated three times in succession, firing stunners in between each. Voldemort had dodged the first two before they had even been cast and tried to reflect the third back at Harry with a Protego before Harry could disapparate, but Harry already knew Voldemort's intentions, so he had disapparsted before the stunner could even be reflected.

Harry paused a few yards from Voldemort, both unfazed by the exchange. Harry knew as well as Voldemort had that it would take much more than that to catch Voldemort out. Voldemort teased Harry with the formal wizard duel salute. In reply, Harry wrote the name "Tom Riddle" in the air and sent them circling Voldemort. Voldemort disapparated and Harry, knowing where he was going, went right with him. The battle raged across the forest, hither and yon, both sets of opponents evenly matched and trading spell for spell, defense for defense. At some point, the anti-apparation spell was lifted, either because it had finally become unstable or because the decision had been made at the castle because the rest of the battle was over. Both pairs of fighters apparated about, neither pair ever too far from each other, trading spells at blinding speed. The ferocity of the exchange kept others from coming too close. The forest was lit with the glow of the fight as the day waned.

Eventually they reached the north end of the lake. Several members of the squadrons were trying to evacuate fallen comrades from the area, but upon the appearance of this foursome, all had apparated or flown away. This was not a safe place to be. All had left, that is, except for Ginny, who could not bear to leave and watched from behind a boulder. The battle was moving too fast for her to even get involved – she would be as likely to strike Harry or Ron as Voldemort or LeStrange if she tried to jump in.

Voldemort apparated in position that he could disable Ron and Harry could not block it. As the strangling spell was cast, Harry levitated Bellatrix into the path of the spell. At the same time she was casting a cutting spell at Ron – the same one Harry had used on the polyjuice-Hermione - while Ron was distracted by Voldemort's spell. The cutter caught Ron squarely in the chest. LeStrange collapsed on the spot, barely alive, trying to gasp for breath. Ron's chest was cut open through the ribs and into the lower part of the lungs and he tumbled down a steep slope. Harry heard a sickening unmistakable hollow crack of skull against rock as Ron reached the bottom.

Filled with the overwhelming desire to attend to the friend he loved the very best, Harry started fighting twice as intensely as before. Voldemort was completely unable to return any spells, but could only fend off the attacks coming from both of Harry's wands like machine gun fire. At some point, it barely registered in Harry's mind the crack when Ginny apparated away. Overwhelmed, Voldemort apparated to LeStrange's side, grabbed her hand and disapparated away to escape to his headquarters.


	58. A Time to Heal

Chapter 58 A Time to Heal

With a crack, the Battle of the Forbidden Forest was over. Voldemort's forces had been eliminated by capture or death, all but Bellatrix LeStrange and the dementors that guarded his headquarters on a rocky outcrop in the North Sea. The forest was now silent of spells, but the evening animals were beginning their chorus. Hagrid was leading the Acromantulas back to their lair as they carried away their booty of giants' corpses. No doubt there would be several minutes before anyone attempted to return to the area. Harry's personal duel with Voldemort had been intense, unlike anything the wizarding world had ever seen before.

Harry had not been surprised that Professor Dumbledore had not intervened. Dumbledore believed that Harry had what he needed to defeat Voldemort, but he also said Harry would know what to do at the right time. That sounded like there was an answer other than fighting, but Harry had not figured it out. All Harry had known to do was fight, and it had not succeeded. Voldemort could see into Harry's mind just as Harry could see into Voldemort's. Harry ought to be exhilarated that he could match wands with the best, but he was simply tired. They were stalemated. Worse, his best friend had taken injuries that ought to kill him.

Harry wondered if the rest of his life would be like this. Rallying troops, making friends, seeing them injured and killed in battle after battle against whatever allies Voldemort had managed to recruit, ending with battling Voldemort to a draw, only to start the cycle all over again. So long as Voldemort survived, he would find opportunists, idealists, and weak-minded people to follow his commands and resume his terror war. Harry knew he was the one who had to oppose him and could never know peace. This was no way to live, thought Harry.

But Harry would have time to think on it later. First he needed to see to Ron. He apparated down the slope to Ron's side. Harry's heart sank, as Ron's chest was wide open and his skull was split open in the back, showing his brain. Ron had vomited blood, and as he shallowly breathed, a bloody bubble rose and sank from his nostril. Harry dropped to his knees and began to cry. Ron, his first friend, the comrade who had fought by his side through so many dangers, the person correctly chosen in the Triwizard tournament as the one Harry would miss most in the world if lost, couldn't possibly make it back to the castle. Apparating would be quick, but put too much stress on Ron's body.

Harry felt he couldn't bear it. He thought how much he loved Ron, how lost he would be without Ron, how much poorer would be the lives of so many others he loved. He would rather take those injuries himself than to have his friend be lost from them. He felt terrible that he had put Ron up to joining this final fight. In his arrogance he thought he could defeat Voldemort, and in trying, he exposed his best friend to horrible danger. "If only those wounds were mine," he thought, "I could die from LeStrange's spell and die in peace, knowing my friends were safe from Voldemort." He prayed more intently than he ever had before that this were so, that he would bear the wounds rather than Ron. He knew it wasn't rational, but it was the only image that came to him. Over and over in his mind he thought how much he loved Ron, how much he wished that he had been the one injured, how much better it would be if he could bear them instead of Ron.

Harry heard Ron shudder and opened his eyes to look. There was a strange green glow around Ron, not the harsh glare of the killing curse, but the intense, merry, bright green of new leaves on an oak tree in the Spring. Harry would have turned to look where it came from, but suddenly his chest and the back of his head were struck with such intense pain it took his breath away. He could barely gasp: his lungs would not respond. The back of his head throbbed in ever-increasing waves of pain, like a rough spike was being hammered into it, until Harry thought he would pass out. And then, after what felt like an hour but couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes, the pain ebbed, quickly, but not as fast as it had come on. As Harry caught his breath, Ron sat up.

"You okay, Harry? You seem pretty fussed."

"Ron!'' Harry yelled, throwing his arms around Ron's shoulders, "you're alive!"

"Not for long at this rate. What are you all up about?" Ron said.

"Don't you remember getting injured, how your chest was cut open?" Harry asked, letting Ron go and rocking back on his ankles.

"Let's see. I got hit by some yellow spell, and it really hurt. I flew back and, erm, let's see, I couldn't breathe. Oh, and I hit my head real hard and everything winked out. Thought I was a goner. But I must have just had the wind knocked out of me and gotten a little knock on my noggin. I feel great – better than new."

Harry stood up and looked at him seriously. "If it wasn't that serious, then where did all that blood and vomit on you and your robe come from?"

Ron looked down at himself. He was bewildered. "Mate, what happened?"

Just then Harry heard a voice some distance behind him. Ginny was up on the ridge he had just come down, calling out despondently.

"Harry, I've been up to the castle. I told Hermione and the family about Ron. Haven't had a chance to see Fred and George yet, but I've heard they're okay - you know those two. Mum and Dad asked me to collect Ron's body, but I lost track of where I saw him last. I found his wand up here, but …" She sighed deeply, despondently. "Anyway, have you found him?"

Harry noticed that Ron had quickly lain back onto the ground. Ginny couldn't see him for a shrub. Ron tapped Harry's leg and winked, then closed his eyes. Harry caught on, and called sadly to Ginny, "He's over here!"

Ginny slid down the slope and then walked despondently over. "Oh, Ron." She dropped on her knees and put her hands on his bloody chest, weeping. Her tears dripped onto his face.

Suddenly Ron poked her in the ribs on both sides, bugged out his eyes, and said goofily, "Hiya, kiddo!"

Ginny screamed, jumped up, and disapparated.

Ron laughed wickedly.

"She's going to get you for that," said Harry.

Ron shrugged. "It was worth it. When do you get a chance like that? So, I was asking, what happened?"

"I'm not really sure. We had fought the battle, and you caught that spell. It ripped your chest open and fell down the slope. I fought off Voldemort, but he escaped with LeStrange. Then I apparated down here to see if there was any hope. I saw you lying there, good as dead. I don't mind admitting, I was really messed up over it."

"Thanks, Harry. I know I would be if it were you."

Harry started to respond, but before he could do more than smile, Ginny had re-apparated with Hermione. They both screamed "Ron" and launched themselves at him.

"Ron Weasley, I'll get you back for that," scolded Ginny, with tears streaming from her eyes. "Just you wait! If we didn't have things to do, you'd have bat wings out your nose right now!"

"Ron, what happened?" pled Hermione. "Ginny told us about you getting hurt so badly by that spell and splitting your skull against a stone." She glanced toward a nearby rock the size of a bolster, coated in blood, orangey red hairs stuck to it, clashing violently with the dark red of the blood. She cringed at the sight of it. "She said she even checked your body but had to run away since Harry and Voldemort were fighting so close. Now you haven't a mark on you."

"I was just trying to get that out of Harry." said Ron. "Well, Harry…?"

Harry pursed his lips, and then explained. "You were injured badly, just like Hermione described. I was sure you were going to die any second. I was kneeling over you, and then there was this green light, like an electric torch, it seemed to move with me, or, rather … as I moved my head. Then, I felt, erm," Harry paused again, not wanting to mention the pain he had felt, "a lot of stress, and after a few minutes, you looked up at me and you were okay."

Hermione got a thoughtful look, and then asked "Harry, what exactly were you thinking when this green glow started? It sounds like magic, really big magic, so we need to know the precise focus of your mind."

"Well, I was beside myself really. Ron looked near death and I, uh, was thinking how much I love him," Harry said, getting a touch of blush to say it - though he knew there was nothing embarrassing about loving your friends, it felt silly to say it like that – "and then was thinking how I would rather be the one with the injury than for him to have it."

"So, you wished to take the injury from him, right?" said Ginny.

"Right. It was more like a prayer, really."

"And there was a green glow coming from you?"

"Well, it moved with me, so it was like it came from me."

"Bright green – like your eyes?"

"Erm, yeah, I guess that is the color."

"And then after a few minutes like that, Ron's injuries were gone, taken away from him," concluded Ginny.

"Yeah, that sounds about right,' Harry said tentatively.

Ron whistled. "You've got Healing magic – glad you found that when you did."

"It's probably no accident that you found that power when someone you care for as much as you do Ron was so badly injured. You could always leave it to Madam Pomfrey before, but you knew this time that wasn't possible. And with your feelings for Ron, you were as focused on the injuries as you could be," said Hermione. "You know, this is rather like what your mother did."

"What? My mother? She could heal?" Harry stared at her for explanation.

Hermione nodded. "Not exactly healing, but Madam Pomfrey was telling me about it as we were arranging the hospital wing to receive the injured. In my healer training, she hadn't mentioned it, because it wasn't something we could use, since your Mum is, well, dead. But today, she was saying how your mother could keep a gravely injured person alive until potions or spells could help them. She would concentrate on them, on helping them, and a very pale green light would shine from her eyes. It would strengthen them and even start the healing. Madame Pomfrey said that's how she got together with your Dad even. The last Quidditch match in their fifth year had been delayed and took place right after OWLs, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. Just as your father got the snitch, both bludgers got him in the head from opposite sides. It looked like he was going to be Hogwart's first Quidditch fatality, but your mother got to him quickly and kept him alive. She kept her eyes on him all the way from the Quidditch pitch to the hospital wing and kept it up for the better part of a day until Madam Pomfrey felt he was well enough for her to stop."

Harry thought a second and said, "So that was like a bonding experience for them?"

Hermione gave a little smile. "Actually, no. Your father was unconscious the whole time, so he didn't even know until someone told him. But what happened is this: Madam Pomfrey said that your father had been quite the bully and the braggart before that, really quite obnoxious. He had been interested in your mother before, but she was only distantly polite. Even after the accident, she didn't want to be around him, at least at first, not any more than her healer trainee duties required. But after the accident, your father became more and more kind and considerate of others, just as brilliant at Quidditch and sorcery, but he grew to be humble and pleasant and helpful toward others. That's when your mother took a fancy to him. Some people said he had some sort of near death experience, and some said he had brain damage. A few people even claimed someone had used polyjuice to substitute for the real James Potter, but no one could come up with a reason why. But Madam Pomfrey said it was different; she said 'Lily Evans was able to find the good in anyone, and bring it out. I think her magical healing was part and parcel with her love of everyone. She could disagree with people, fight with them even if need be, and there were those she didn't want to be around. But she just couldn't bring herself to hate anyone. And when she worked with them, they just seemed to come around and start to reach their potential.'"

Ron jumped in excitedly. "Harry, that's just like what happened with the DA! We were a bunch of goofuses till you coached us. Remember how Neville could barely do anything?"

Hermione added, "Dean told me that he barely had to fight anyone at all because Neville took out just about anyone who got near him."

"Not only that," said Ginny, "after the last of them tried to escape, Neville took on Dolohov soon after he had knocked out McGonagall. Neville was more than a match for him. Don't tell me that's just him being a late bloomer."

Harry frowned. "Hmm, I thought I was just a pretty good coach with some good students."

"You are, and not just 'pretty good,' you git!" said Ginny. "You care about your students, you encourage, you develop our strengths and help us overcome our weaknesses, just as any good coach would do. But you're also a wizard, a wizard whose magic reaches out to others, to those you care to help, just like your mother did – but apparently much more deeply. I'll bet that night when you freaked out screaming at Tonks, she got a big burst of that magic – that's why she could do her patronus!"

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, the night when Hedwig was attacked there was a similar green glow around her in Hagrid's cabin, just not as strong. I thought Dumbledore or Hagrid had conjured it so we could keep an eye on her."

Hermione snapped her fingers. "And don't forget Melony. You haven't wanted to take credit, but I'll bet you really did keep her alive. I talked to the goblin healers, and they still have no explanation for how someone that far gone could survive."

Ron spoke up. "This is very interesting and all, but there are people out here who need help now. Let's get to them. Harry, do you think you can do it for others too? Or," he said with a smirk, "Am I just special?"

"Oh, yeah, you're special alright!" Harry said sarcastically, "- in more ways than one. Seriously, I'm willing to try, but I've just now healed someone for the very first time, and it was my best friend. It took me months to learn how to focus for a Patronus, and that just takes thinking intensely happy thoughts. Now I've got to care enough to take injuries away. I just don't know how it will go."

Hermione looked up at him, a sight made all the more effective on him due to the many months he had gone without seeing her eyes. "Trying is all anyone can ask. You've never failed to give a go at helping others before. You know – it's that saving-people thing. Tell you what: if someone can be taken back to the hospital wing and treated there, then that's what we'll do. You tend to those who've been marked as beyond help, okay? After all, if they would die anyway, then we're not making things any worse."

"Sure," said Harry, with a bit of reluctance.

Ginny put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Harry, no one has faced dangers like you have to save others. You fought a basilisk to save me. You fought a hundred dementors to save Hermione and Sirius. I've lost track of how many times you've faced Voldemort. You even saved that idiot cousin of yours who'd always been such a bully to you. You can do this."

Harry smiled weakly. Sure, he thought, but in those cases, he had been fighting, and he had been saving his own skin as well. They didn't know about the pain. They thought it was like pulling a splinter. It was one thing to take Ron's pain; he'd do it again if he had to, gladly. But could he do it for others? It wasn't like trading hits like in boxing or a duel, or even like standing there letting someone hit him; he had to pull the injury into his own body: it went against every instinct of the body for self-preservation.


	59. Fur and Hide

Chapter 59 – Fur and Hide

The sun was low. Students had come out in teams to finish the locating and evacuation of the remaining injured and killed from the battlefield. Working in teams, they were busily gathering wands, friends' and foes' alike, so that Death Eaters and their allies could not grab them and try to fight their way away or disapparate. Some of those injured had only been knocked out by minor curses, Impedimenta and the like, useful in a battle, especially where you have to watch out for friendly fire, but only temporary. Even the Death Eaters had generally held back from the killing curse because of the risk of hitting their own. Wand-to-wand combat was no place for the avada kedavra. Other teams had been assigned to stand guard against the creatures of the Forbidden Forest, many of whom would make a feast of the injured and dead if given a chance.

Harry spied a location a hundred yards away with both red sparks and purple sparks – an ally dead or dying. He pointed and they all ran over. A woman was lying face down, with one leg pointing off at an angle from a point four inches below the knee. The jagged bone was jutting out, but that was not why she had gotten the purple sparks. She was impaled on the remains of a broomstick, visible sticking out of her back, just inside the right pelvis. It looked like it must have entered from the other side.

Harry knelt close to her and gasped. "Tonks!"

Tonks was shivering, barely breathing. She turned a little and whispered, "Harry? You made it! …I zigged when I … should have zagged; … giant got me …like swatting … a fly … against a tree." She tried to swallow and then added, "I'm cold, so c-c-cold."

Harry felt her cheek and she was. She would be dead in no time if he didn't act quickly. He took a breath and felt that he could do this. He knew the injury would heal in him, if he could only bear the pain. But she was in shock and wasn't feeling all of it. He would feel it, every bit. He would have to: his feelings for her weren't the same affection he had for Ron, but he loved Tonks too. He would just have to take this from her.

"Hold onto my shoulders," he told them. "Hold me up – it's, uh, pretty stressful magic."

Ron and Ginny knelt on either side of him and held at the top of his arms. Harry pulled the hood of his robes over his head so they wouldn't see him grimace with the pain. Harry focused his thoughts on caring for Tonks, reaching out to her, connecting, strengthening, healing. He remembered the very special time they shared the summer before, and the close loving friendship and affection that remained. He told himself he loved her enough to take those injuries from her, he believed he loved her enough to take those injuries from her, and then he knew he loved her enough to take those injuries from her. The green glow fell upon her and the others all caught their breath in surprise.

Tonks breathed deeply. "I'm feeling warmer, must be close to dying now. I wonder if Sirius will be up for Exploding Snap."

Harry's eyes teared up. "No!" he screamed, he wasn't going to let Tonks go as Sirius had. He desperately pled for all those injuries to come to him. He didn't care how much he hurt. He had seen Sirius die – he wasn't ready to let someone else go, not if there was anything he could do. The green light became even deeper. The pain set in. He felt his abdomen, intestines and back rip, just as Tonks' had when the broomstick came through. His innards were on fire and freezing at the same time. He felt like he would heave. He gritted his teeth to keep from breaking his concentration. He felt his leg break and his robe shift as his lower leg angled away and his ankle twisted. He hoped the others would not see that. But what was important was that Tonks was starting to sound stronger. She breathed more deeply. Her leg straightened. The shard of broomstick fell out of her and the wound healed over. Harry's leg straightened, the gash in his belly healed over, and the pain subsided.

Tonks rolled over. "I just had the strangest dream. I was injured in the battle and…"

She saw their faces and realized it was no dream.

"What happened? I should be dead by now."

Ginny was the first one who could find words. "Harry can heal," she said. "You were this close to dead! He took the injury clean away!"

Ron remained staring.

"Ron, what …?" said Tonks, and then she realized. The broomstick crash had torn away the entire front of her robe. She pulled what was left together.

"Uh-oh! Not bad for an 'older woman', huh?"

Hermione hit Ron in the arm. "Men!"

"What? I was just seeing, erm, how well she had healed."

He didn't sound very convincing, and Ginny tittered.

"We don't have time for play," said Harry grimly. "There are more purple sparks out there."

As Harry got up, Hermione said quietly, "Harry, while you were healing Tonks, I thought I saw…"

Harry held up his hand to stop her. "Now's not the time. We have to get to as many as we can. Look how close we were with her."

"But Harry …"

"Not now,' he said in a tone of intense finality.

They set out to the nearest purple sparks, as Hermione gave a little sniffle. When they got to the next location, they found Ernie McMillan. They couldn't see what was wrong. He wasn't moving. Hermione checked him several ways: for a pulse, for breath, for pupil dilation. He was dead.

"No!" demanded Harry, as much to himself and Ernie as to the others. "We've got to try."

Harry dropped to his hands and knees over Ernie and soon the green glow bathed him. And just as quickly, it stopped.

"There's nothing there I can heal."

Harry cursed. He and Ernie had never really been close friends. Other than DA meetings and the one weekend in the summer he had visited, they hadn't hung out together. But Ernie was a decent guy and had been a fine and dedicated leader, and it hurt Harry deeply to know with such cold certainty that Ernie was dead.

"Come on. We have to hurry. Every second counts."

Harry would not allow himself to care about physical pain. Too many people had died. He had the ability to stop it for some, if only he could get to them in time – and find enough care in his heart for them to overcome the body's aversion to such pain.

The next purple and red sparks they saw led them to a pile of shabby robes that looked familiar. But the shape inside them was not. There was a sharp furry snout projecting. A low furry forehead was deeply indented. Harry looked up at the full moon.

"It's Remus!" he said. "Hold me up again. Hermione, stand by to stun him as hard as you can. With the full moon, he'll be dangerous once I've healed his injuries. But wait until he's healed – I don't think he could take it right now."

It occurred to Harry that Lupin must have decided to put off taking his wolfsbane potion, which would have left him too weak and docile to fight. If not for the injuries, he would have easily made it back to the castle before the moon rose. Harry knelt on hands and knees, pulling his hood as far forward as it would go again. Ginny and Ron grabbed the shoulders of his robe. The green glow came much quicker now. Harry was getting much better with practice. His skull crushed over the left eye and ear. He felt pain searing through his entire body as fur erupted, his hands became paws, and a snout erupted between his eyes. Lupin's body transformed back into a human again, with no injuries, and the green light subsided, as Harry painfully became Harry again. It had taken little more than two minutes, but they were two absolutely awful minutes.

Lupin opened his eyes and saw the full moon. He started to yell, "Stun me, bind me, do something before I change to the werewolf!"

"No worry, mate," said Ron smiling. "You already were. Harry changed you back. He's learned to heal people."

Lupin put his hand to his head.

Ron continued glibly. "That's gone, too. He just draws the injury out."

Harry knew that it was more than that, but that would do for now. Remus held his face straight-on toward the full moon filtering through the broken branches above, testing to see if he would change again.

Harry waited a few seconds and then, convinced the lycanthropy was over for this month, said, "We've got to hurry. If you're okay, 'Mooncalf,' they'll need you to help get the injured back to the castle. You know what needs to be done. Sorry to be short with you. There are others in need. We'll talk later."

Remus remained staring at the moon, speechless. Harry moved on; he couldn't wait for thanks. It was unnecessary and it took time – time he could ill afford.

"Harry?" Hermione said, catching up to him as he strode on ahead of the others toward the next set of flares.

"Not now," he said impatiently, "we have others to get to."

"It's something different. We'll talk as we go. When you were healing Remus, I got to feeling quite drained, like I had some sort of illness. And once you and he were healed …" (Harry pursed his lips at the realization that she knew that he had to take on the injury to heal others), "I returned to feeling fine - better than before."

"Listen, thanks for telling me, but there's no time to noodle it out. We'll work on it as we go."

They found four more, auror Wimbush and three adult volunteers, near each other. Harry remembered two of the volunteers from training camp. At first it was hard to get the healing started. It's easy to say you love all mankind when it doesn't cost anything, when it doesn't mean taking life-threatening injuries and the pain that goes with them into your own body. But these were wizards and witches who had fought alongside his friends. They had people they loved and who loved them. He pictured the gap that would be left in so many lives were these people to die. He remembered the gaps left in his own and others' lives when people he knew had died. He taught himself the focus needed to heal them. He could heal three, one witch was gone. It haunted him to think that if he had been able to act more quickly, that witch would have survived. He couldn't bear to let that happen again: pain be damned!

He ran on to other sites with purple sparks, healing three more, finding six more dead.

Just then, quite deep in the forest, they heard a howl. It was a howl they had all heard before.

"That sounds like Hagrid - he must have gotten back from the Acromantula colony."

"Oh, no!" said Ginny. "This is the area where Madame Maxime ended up fighting some of the remnants of the dark forces. I saw she got hit with a green spell. I was afraid it was the killing curse, but I didn't know. I had never seen it."

"Sounds like their way," said Ron. "And they would have felt safe firing it over their own people's heads at someone that tall."

They ran around a dense thicket, where the terrain would support underbrush but not large trees. They saw Hagrid sitting on the ground holding Madame Maxime, his legs splayed out and her shoulders propped against his left thigh, his enormous hands cradling her head. Her whole body looked like it had been beaten severely, giving the intensely bright reddish-purple bruises one gets from breaking both arteries and veins. She had to be very near death from internal bleeding and whatever other injuries the spell had caused; but she was still moving a little – some twitching, some shivering. She wasn't dead, not just yet. Harry remembered how two years ago Hagrid had been hit by multiple stunners from highly experienced aurors and was still able to run away. Apparently, that tough half-giant hide of hers had protected her as well. For now; sort of: because it was clear she was near death.

"Hagrid, it's okay, Harry's got a new power - he can heal anything!" Ron enthused.

Hermione gasped. "Ron, I don't think …!"

Harry put a hand on her arm to stop her. They both saw Hagrid's joyous, expectant look. He reminded Harry of a four-year-old waiting for Christmas. Yet Harry was afraid, deeply afraid. Could he heal the Avada Kedavra? Could he take all the injury that her half-giant body could hold?

Quietly he told Hermione, "Hagrid would do anything for us. I'll do everything I can for him, and Madame Maxime."

"Be careful, Harry. We need you. We love you."

Harry sat between Madame Maxime's body and Hagrid's other leg and leaned back against Hagrid's belly.

"Hold me tight, Hagrid, but not too tight," he said, and Hagrid placed his enormous arm across Harry's chest. Harry was getting much better at it, and the vivid green light was soon flooding the area. Harry started to feel like every nerve, every cell, was slowly but surely swelling and exploding. His body screamed in pain like he had never known before. Ginny, Ron and Hermione fell over. Still he continued, and his vision went black.


	60. Stag, Doe and Dog

Chapter 60 Stag, Doe and Dog

Harry found himself walking through a gently rolling meadow with cool deep woods off to his left, and running out of the woods cutting across the field was a deep, narrow stream, a bit too broad to jump across, even at a run. It was sunny and just being there made him feel exuberant. Crossing the stream was an arched wooden bridge – simple, yet stylish, rather like the Japanese bridges. Lying on the stream bank, near the bridge abutment on the near side, was Madame Maxime's body. Harry knelt to check her, but her body just twitched and shivered, as it had in the forest. Across the bridge, Harry saw a large stag, and a doe, and a huge black dog. He knew that black dog: it was Sirius. He knew at once who the others must be. He laughed and cried for joy at being so close to them.

As Harry came around the abutment, never taking his eyes off of them, they looked up, and changed into the human form of his parents and Sirius. His parents appeared not much older than him, and Sirius was not the gaunt specter Harry had known in the flesh but a strong, handsome young man. All three could have stepped out of the photographs Hagrid had collected for Harry. Harry felt that this was it – the place he was meant to be, the place that he belonged, where he could at last find peace and happiness. Harry began running around the railing to get to them. He had just placed a foot on the near side of the bridge, when his father held his hands up.

"Stop, Harry!" his father shouted. "There's no turning back once you come over. It's not your time to cross. But we have some things to tell you."

Harry stopped, bewildered. "But … but, I've always wanted to have you with me, and now you're so near."

"Harry," his mother said affectionately, "you love the idea of having parents. Anyone would. And you want to have that connection with your past, with your humanity even. But you never knew us, you barely knew Sirius really. There are others, still alive, that have been more than willing to love you like a son and a brother."

Harry's mind turned to the Weasleys, and Dumbledore, Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. Even Lupin, Tonks and Moody. They all had looked out for him and shown real care and affection for him. But …

"But it's not the same as having your own parents."

"No, son," his father said sadly. "It's not. And it's not fair. You know we would have been there with you if we could. But there are millions of people who grow up without their parents: sometimes death takes them, sometimes parents have their own problems that separate them from their children."

"Aye," added Sirius sadly to this, closing his eyes at the thought of his own estrangement from his parents.

Harry's mother explained, "Life is often not fair. But you have choices as to what you make of your life. And if you choose to cross this bridge now to be with us, there will be many, many more children who lose their parents. Do what you can. Let the people who love you do so. And be loving to all – hatred, blame and anger only lead to self destruction."

Harry nodded. Then he asked, "But what can I do? It seems like from the moment I learned I'm a wizard, I've been battling Voldemort. I don't run from him now - we fight each other to a draw. We see into each other's minds and know before the other acts what to do."

Sirius spoke up first: "Think, Harry, darkness is not vanquished by darkness, but by light."

The bridge began to get longer, and the stream was widening. Harry's parents and Sirius were retreating with the opposite bank. His mother called across to him, "Consider the Parable of the Cave."

Sirius shouted, "We'll be here for you when your time comes."

And finally, his father added, "We're so proud of you, Harry."

Harry removed his foot from the bridge and it crumbled away. In the distance Harry saw them wave, just before they changed back into the stag, the doe and the dog, gamboling about the meadow.

Harry felt a weight on one shoulder. He looked and saw an enormous hand, delicate in its own way, with large opal rings on the fingers. It was Madame Maxime; she had waked while Harry talked.

She spoke much more gently than he had previously known her to. "Harree, it ees time we retairned. People you knew?"

Harry nodded. "Sort of. My parents – you know about their deaths, I'm sure – and Sirius Black. He was my godfather. He died two years ago."

Maxime nodded in return, and began steering him back in the direction he had come from. "Yes, Hagreed told me about that. He cried for you; he is such a dear. He loves you very much. Thank you for what you have done for me, healing me. It vos very brave and generous."

Harry blushed a bit. "Oh, well, it's just what I could do."

"But no one else can do it. How long have you been doing zis healing?"

"I just discovered it after the battle, only about half an hour before I started healing you. As I look back, I can see little signs, but it took focusing on the injuries of someone I love to make it come out strong."

Then sounding like the headmistress she was, Maxime explained, "Yas, focus is ze key to powerful mageek – ze Patronus, Transfiguration, ze Summoning Charm, Apparation - all of zem zat are deep. Zat is vot makes ze Unforgiveable curses so unforgiveable – zair are other vays to kill, or hurt, or control people. But ze Unforgiveables involve a total focus on overcoming and destroying a person. Very sad zat anyone should ever feel zat vay. Inhuman."

She shook her head, then continued, "Do you just think of healing, or is zair something else."

"Healing is a part of it." Harry hesitated, and then figured it was either a dream, where it wouldn't matter, or their souls were indeed in touch, and you ought to be able to say anything to someone you meet like that, and Harry felt a deep desire to tell someone how much it cost him to heal others. "I really have to find love for that person deep enough that I desire to take the injury from them and into my own body."

She nodded, and then asked sympathetically, "And do you feel ze injury as well?"

Tears welled in Harry's eyes and he nodded.

She looked sadly at him. "Vith all of zat pain?"

Harry's shoulders shook, and his lips quivered, and he nodded and bowed his head. Maxime bent down and wrapped her arms around him, picking him up and hugging him into her bosom like a mother with a toddler who had skinned his knee – surprisingly gently for such a thorough hug from such an enormous woman.

"Oh you dear, sweet, amazing boy. I knew how valiant you vere ven you saved Fleur's sister. But zis? How could you do zis - for me?"

Harry had no answer, and no answer was needed. He cried into her massive shoulder for half a minute and then she put him down, and they continued on their way back.

"Do ze uzzers know ze price you pay, ze pain you feel."

"No, they don't. Hermione suspects it. She knows I take the injury, but I don't know if she understands the pain. She tried to ask but I put her off. She might have feared to ask me to heal others, and it's those with the worst injuries who need me. The others only know that they feel tired while I'm healing – I think I'm drawing strength from them. I think this magic draws healing to me as I need, just as I can give it to others."

Harry paused and then added, "She tried to stop me from healing you, you know. She was concerned about you, but she turned white when she thought I would take all the injury you had into my body."

"I understand. I do not blame her. I vould feel ze same vay for someone I love. She loves you, no?"

"Yes. Yes, she does. Only as a friend, or a brother, but in that way, I know it's as total a love as is possible."

"Have you tried for ze romance?"

"Not with her. I've had a few relationships. I thought I had something this year that was the real thing, but I learned it was just part of the battle plan."

"Oh, really?"

"Surely you knew - you were in on the plan, weren't you?"

"I knew some things, not all, like how ze dementors vere to be disabled."

"Well, they needed someone to keep me stable so they had Ginny Weasley pose as my girlfriend."

"Still, Harree, maybe she vos villing because she vanted to be zat way with you, or maybe something has grown?"

Harry nodded. "I doubt it. Everything seemed quite coldly calculated."

"Were zose messages from your parents and Black about facing Voldemort?"

"Yes, but I'm not quite sure what they mean. Do you know what the Parable of the Cave is?"

"No, I think zat is from ze muggles – your mother vos muggle-born, no? Ve learn too little about muggle culture."

"Yeah, but then I was raised by muggles and I have no clue. We're almost back. I'll need to get on with healing. There are others in grave condition. I'd like you and Hagrid to help me."

"Of course ve vill – how could ve refuse anything?"

"Also, can you keep all of this discussion a total secret, even from Hagrid?"

"Yes, for a vile at least. I think he vill soon ask me to marry, and I think I vill say yes. And ze only secrets a married couple should have," Maxime said with a knowing smile and wink, "are ze special plans zey have for each uzzer in zair intimate times. Little surprises are very important zair."

Harry blushed and laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Is this just a dream or are we really speaking?"

"If I told you here, it could just be a part of the dream. You vill know if you hear me use the word 'goat' after ve vake up, yes?"

"Why 'goat'?"

"Zair ees not much cause to say it uzzerwise, ees zair?"

And they had arrived back at the glade. Everyone but Hagrid was unconscious;

Hagrid was clutching both of them by the shoulders and bawling.

Maxime shook her head and smiled towards Hagrid. "I love a man who can love so deeply." She hugged Harry again. "And zat goes for you, too, Harree."

Then Maxime returned to her body.

Harry returned to his body and all the pain returned. He thrashed in agony. Even Hagrid, who stopped bawling when he felt movement, could barely hold on to him. Then the pain eased. Harry blinked his eyes – they had been open this whole time and were quite dry - and breathed deeply.

Hagrid asked, "Harry, what happened? I thought I'd lost yeh."

Harry smiled. "It's okay now, Hagrid – look!"

Maxime had opened her eyes and smiled. Hagrid gasped. He lifted Harry to the side and then grabbed Maxime and kissed her all about the face, lifting her up and dancing with her and kissing her more, quite scratching her face up with his steel wool beard.

Maxime laughed and hugged him. "Oh, get off, you old goat."

Harry had been laughing and watching them generally, but on hearing her call Hagrid a goat, his eyes snapped to her face, poking over Hagrid's shoulder as they hugged each other. She winked at Harry and gave a little nod. Then Harry knew that not only had it been Maxime he had talked to, but his parents and Sirius as well. That knowledge made him feel warm in itself, but now it was all the more important that he figure out what they were telling him.

Ron, Ginny and Hermione woke, looking very well rested. Ginny and Hermione stretched like they had taken a nice late afternoon nap. Ron sat up, noticed a spider that had crawled onto him, and started gently playing with it, letting it crawl up and down his arms.

Hermione was beyond shocked to see this. "Ron, what are you doing? You loathe spiders."

"I know. I do, or at least I thought I did, but I saw this little fella on me, and it seemed kind of … cute. Look at the cool way it crawls. I can't believe I never noticed how fascinating they can be."

Hermione and Harry both looked at him, and then at each other, puzzled: what could have changed something so deep in him? He had fled from the north battlefield in his terror at spiders and required a potion to get back to the south battlefield, yet here he was playing with one.

"Are all of you okay?" Harry asked. Seeing that they were, he continued, "If you lot are fine now, I need to ask something – do any of you know the Parable of the Cave?"

It was no surprise that it was Hermione who spoke up.

"Isn't this a curious time to discuss philosophy?" she asked.

"I'm trying to broaden my education," said Harry, with a touch of sarcasm. "Really, I have reason to ask."

"Well, there are actually two versions in popular culture. One says that we only see things as tenuous images of their real nature, like shadows cast on a cave wall by some object nearer the mouth. It's the Platonic concept of the eternal Ideas – there is an Ideal Rock or Tree, but all the rocks and trees we see in real life are just poor approximations of the perfect Form."

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hagrid looked at Hermione like she was daft. Even the birds seemed to have gone silent. Maxime was rather more amused at the others' reactions.

"Well, who knows?" said Harry after several seconds. "That might be what I'm looking for, but humor me – what's the other version?"

"The second is an allegory about learning, comparing an ignorant person to someone who has been living in a deep cave for a very long time. The long time in the darkness makes him unable to tolerate light. Education was bringing him into the light, toward the entrance. You can bring the person slowly toward the light and his eyes will adjust and grow to accept light again. But if you drag him out immediately into full light, the glare is too much for him and he will not be able to see anything. In fact, they are really different lessons from the same story, as we are all supposed to be mired in the shadow images of the physical world and in need of enlightenment so as to perceive the ultimate reality."

"Hmm. Okay then, I can make some use of the second part – too much light blinds someone who has lived in darkness," said Harry. "I can see that as useful – there may be a plan that can come out of that. I know the first step anyway and I'll piece together the rest as I keep healing. If it looks do-able, I'll go ahead with those that want to join me. If not I'll have to start over. I need you people to do some things while I'm at it. If I can put it all together, we'll want to act right away."

They all nodded.

"First, keep it quiet about me working on a plan. All most people need to know is that Harry and Ron are okay and Voldemort escaped from me. Hey, I like the sound of that – 'Voldemort escaped from Harry,' not the other way around. Anyway, Hagrid, Hermione and Madame Maxime – help me out here, finding those who need help. Ginny and Ron, I need you to find Tonks and send her to me ASAP. I need her help particularly."

Ron nodded and said, "Right, mate, how will she know how to find you?"

Harry glanced first at Hagrid and then at Maxime, then back to Ron. "Well, duh!"

"Oh, right, this team won't be hard to spot."

"But it _is_ a big battlefield – we'll be working our way south. She ought to be able to apparate to us guiding on my wands. Next, find me at least ten people with top-notch Patronuses and nerves of steel. They should also be comfortable on a broom. More if you can get 'em. Remus, if he's up for it –"

"You know he will be if we say it's for you," said Ginny.

"I'm sure we can count on him, unless the moon worries him too much. I want people who are battle-tested and have completely corporeal Patronuses. Fred and George, if they can pull themselves away from setting pranks. There should be some students as well who can handle it."

"Are you going to include us?" asked Ron.

"After what I just got you into, I'm afraid to say yes. But we've all been through so much together: if you're game, I won't stop you."

"Count me in," said Ron.

"Me, too," said Ginny.

"You can't make me stay behind," said Hermione.

"Is it somethin' me and Maxime can help with?" asked Hagrid.

"We'll be traveling by broom, Hagrid, and it will be better if everyone who goes is smaller than a dementor. Just do what you can here, okay?"

"O' course, Harry."

"I also want Neville – he'll need to bring the basilisk wand. We'll all meet at," Harry checked his watch, "1:00 a.m. in front of the chapel. See if Reverend MacBoon will see us off with a few words. We need brooms for everyone but Neville. We want him to arrive in one piece, so he'll ride with me. Bring my Firebolt. Tell everyone it has to be kept quiet and it will be as dangerous as anything I've ever done."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, yeah, that's a good selling point!"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, who wouldn't jump at that? Now that's for you and Ron, but Ron, before you do anything else, there're a few things you need to do."

"What's that, Harry?"

"You need to get up to the Hospital Wing and show yourself to your family. They've heard you're okay, but they need to see it. And since you'll be up there, find out from Madam if there are any survivors up there who won't make it without my help. I'll want you to come right back to us with that information. But before you do that even, there's one thing you have to do for all of us: CHANGE YOUR ROBES! You're a hideous sight and a worse smell – between the vomit and the blood and the sweat and …," Harry sniffed, "… Cologne? You wore cologne to a battle?"

Ron blushed. "Well, it looked like there wasn't going to be a battle and I was, uh, going to, erm, spend the day with ... someone."

Harry glanced over at Hermione who was trying to look innocent, glancing around at the trees, and not doing a very good job of it, what with the blush rising on her cheeks.

"What is that scent? Eau de Flobberworm?" Harry laughed. "Right then, once I know if I'm needed at the Hospital Wing later, you can help Ginny round up volunteers. Let's get to it."


	61. Badgering

Chapter 61 Badgering

Ginny and Ron disapparated toward the castle, while the remaining four scanned for the purple flares. They moved from person to person. Several victims Harry barely knew, a few not at all. Starting the healing magic kept getting easier and easier for Harry. He found that he could tell himself, "this is a person with family and friends, people that love him, people that would be heart-broken to lose him. This is a person with qualities and hopes and dreams all his own that make him special and wonderful." And that was enough for Harry to find enough love in his heart to start the healing. Still the pain was always oppressive – they wouldn't have purple flares if the injuries were not dire.

Twenty minutes later, Ron returned. "I almost needed you again; Mum liked to hug the stuffings out of me."

Harry looked him in the eye. "Never, ever complain that you have people that care about you that much."

"Right, mate," Ron replied, a bit abashed. "No complaint really, just a bit embarrassing there in front of everyone in the hospital wing. I told Madame Pomfrey what was up with you. She was thrilled, of course, 'Just like his Mum and then some – well, he's spent enough time filling these beds, he may as well spend some time emptying them.' She said she and Melony had about a dozen who wouldn't make it to dawn without something more than what she can do. She wants you as soon as you can make it."

"Well, we'll be up pretty soon. Not many purple flares out here any more. A good many of those left are already dead."

Ron disapparated back toward the castle. Madame Maxime called to Harry. She had found another yet-living student. Harry was surprised to see it was Dennis Creevy.

Hagrid said, "Yeh'll never get him and his brother to stop takin' yer picture if yeh save him."

As Harry knelt he said, "Yeah, but I'll do it anyway."

As the green light glowed around Dennis's body, Tonks showed up. Someone had given her a spare set of robes. She gasped as she saw the changes come upon Dennis's body. She saw Harry's body tense and writhe, and started to breathe deeper as Harry drew strength from her, Hermione, Hagrid and Maxime.

"That's awesome, Harry, but why did I get winded there, too."

"When I need extra strength for the healing, I draw it from those around me," replied Harry.

"Ah, well, it's a good cause – take what ya need," she replied.

Dennis woke up. He looked up at Harry. "Oh, hiya, Harry. I was in a right state, wasn't I? Did you give me a potion or something, Harry? Did you invent it yourself? Did you get a chance to fight Voldemort again? Did you …"

"Oh, shut up, Dennis!"

And for once, Dennis did.

Harry continued, a bit more patiently, "Yeah, I healed you. Film at 11."

Dennis laughed. Being from a muggle family, he knew what the phrase meant. Harry told him to go on up to the castle to check in and see about his brother Colin in the hospital wing. Colin had not been injured badly enough that he couldn't be moved, so he had been taken up to the castle. Harry didn't even want to tell Dennis how he had been healed. He knew Dennis would figure it out back at the castle. There would be no stopping people talking about this new-found ability, especially with so many of those who had been guarding the injured having seen it

Once Dennis started scurrying up to the castle, Tonks spoke up. "What'dja want me for, Harry? Remembered what ya been missing? It's a strange time for a date."

She giggled and winked.

"I want you to be Voldemort," said Harry.

Tonks blanched, as only a metamorphmagus can.

"Voldemort? But why?"

"I need you to look just like him and say everything you can to get me angry, to fill me with hatred, to make me lose my cool. Follow me around as I go to heal people. Distract me, annoy me, insult me. I have to be totally without the slightest trace of animosity when I go to meet him again in a few hours."

"If you say so, but I can't say I fancy ticking off Harry Potter while looking like Voldemort. I remember the last time when I riled you as LeStrange."

Tonks transformed her appearance into a perfect likeness of Voldemort, muttering as she did how the transformation was going to hurt. Harry realized that rather than the bitter feeling he might have had even a few hours ago about someone complaining about pain when he had gone through so much this night, he was only mildly amused at the relative absurdity of her complaint.

It was well over an hour before they got to all the injuries on the field. In addition to sorcerers, they came across Bane, the centaur, and at least a dozen goblins who would have died, and Harry healed them all. The rest they found were already dead. All those that could be evacuated had been. All the time, Tonks was saying every foul thing she could think of – insulting Harry, Harry's father, his mother, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Hermione, Sirius, Lupin, Neville, indeed everyone Harry cared for. She even insulted herself in quite graphic and grotesque terms with what Harry thought was a rather odd enthusiasm – perhaps she thought it was funny.

Finally she hit upon what she thought must have been the lowest thing of all that she could say. She went into a long rant, as Voldemort, about Harry's mother being glad James was killed, because she desired Voldemort instead, and had begged him to do everything and anything he wanted to with her after James was killed. This did prove to be too much, but for Hagrid, rather then for Harry.

Hagrid seized her around the waist with one hand – a poor fit until he squeezed - and began to shake her violently.

"No one will speak of Lily Potter like that aroun' me. That woman was the saintliest I…"

"Petrificus Totalis!" shouted Harry, pointing his wand at Hagrid. Then Harry levitated Hagrid so he would not fall and crush Tonks. Tonks resumed her usual shape, which left her small enough to slide out of his grasp.

Harry knelt beside her, as she collapsed. "Tonks, are you okay?"

"I don't know, Harry. I think he did some real damage to me. I can't really feel my legs right now. I can't say as I blame him – I really went over the line there."

"Nonsense – you did just as I asked."

Harry then held her hands and, looking gently into her eyes, healed her.

"Wow, Harry, that felt better than just about anything I've ever known," she said, stretching out her legs. Then added with a wink, "and you know I've known some pretty nice things."

Harry smiled. "That's good to know – everyone else has been unconscious or nearly so when I've healed them. I'd hate for it to hurt them."

Tonks then kissed him warmly. "Everything seems to be back in working order. Thanks, Harry, it's good to have a friend like you."

"Harree," interrupted Madame Maxime. "I think Hagreed would like to be able to move now."

"Right, Professor, sorry. Okay. Hagrid, I'll release the spell now, but don't you be mad at Tonks. She was doing what I asked her to do. Finite Incantatem!"

Hagrid's movement returned. "Sorry there, Tonks, I kind of lost my head and, well, Lily was such a special lady."

"I understand, Hagrid. I like men who will defend a lady's honor – well, within reason," said Tonks.

Then Hagrid turned to Harry. "Harry, yeh really have grown strong – nobody's ever stopped me with a single hex like that before."

"I hated to do it to you, Hagrid, but Tonks couldn't wait for me to reason with you," said Harry with a shy smile.

Then he added more seriously, "Actually Tonks was closer than any of you knew," said Harry, and the others stared at him in shock.

He nodded. "It's one of the hardest things I've had to deal with these past few months. I saw it all through Voldemort's memories. She didn't want my father dead or anything like that. But when my father had been killed, and Voldemort was coming for me, she was willing to do anything to save me. She begged Voldemort to spare me. She offered to do anything, to be anything for him. And since he never stops using his legilemency, I know that she meant it; she would not have been just giving in but she would have acted enthusiastically – if only I could be spared. It was the closest that Voldemort had come to having a warm human emotion in his entire memory. He had so little human left to him, he couldn't have accepted her offers anyway, even if he had been willing to spare me, but it did move him to offer to let her live, if only she would move aside so I could be killed. That was the one thing that she would not do."

"Aw, Harry," said Hagrid, "that image would be tough enough to carry of anyone, much less yer own mother. I'm so sorry."

"Well, it's helped in a way, in that I can see him better now for the sick and depraved individual he is. He's not a machine, and while he is in some senses a 'monster,' he is not totally inhuman. Mostly, he is a person whose soul is twisted almost beyond recognition. And Tonks, in saying these things, has brought that out for me."

"Well, I'm glad to help, but if you don't mind, I'd rather not do anything like that ever again," said Tonks.

"Absolutely. You've done an excellent job. I can already feel that I've given up virtually all of my negative feelings. And the result now is that I'm shielded from Voldemort. He cannot bear to look where there is nothing but love. Even though he knew my intentions when you started, he doesn't understand why he can no longer see into my mind. He just knows he can't. He is deeply disturbed by it. But - he remains open to me, and he doesn't know that."

They scoured the battlefield for any more survivors and asked around among the students and adults still removing the dead and those with healable wounds, but there were only a couple who were neither dead nor otherwise recoverable still left. When the area was clear of those, they returned to the castle. Tonks kept her usual form, lest she start a riot in the castle by looking like Voldemort. Harry also didn't want to give away that he had a plan.


	62. The Great Test

Chapter 62 TheGreat Test

Harry and Hermione hurried up to the Hospital Wing and asked Madam Pomfrey about the worst cases. She pointed Harry to the first one, and gave Hermione a list for the rest. The area was crowded with students, healers, the wounded, and families of the wounded. It was chaotic. Harry waved to Mrs. Weasley, sitting in a chair between Bill's and Charley's beds, where they were sitting up. She started toward him, a grateful, jubilant look on her face, but Harry waved her off to maintain his concentration as he approached the first patient. He was aware of her and Bill and Charley positioning themselves to see as he approached the bed and saw Professor McGonagall, near death with internal injuries from multiple stunners and cruciatus torture which Dolohov had inflicted when McGonagall was down – just for the fun of it!

Once he recognized his patient, Harry saw nothing but Professor McGonagall. He had no trouble feeling love for his head of house. She had been a surrogate grandmother to him ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts. She had protected him, chastised him, promoted him, cheered for him, disciplined him, and for all of it he was grateful and enamored. He quickly grabbed a washcloth and, rolling it up, put it between his teeth. He pulled his hood up. Almost before he sat by her bed, Hermione grabbing his shoulders to keep him up, the green light emanated from his eyes, as intensely as it had at any time all night. He was barely aware of the hush which had fallen over the cacophonous hospital wing, unconcerned whether the silence was for what he was doing or for the immense respect nearly everyone had for Minerva McGonagall. He scarcely had time to think of it, however, before the pain first of the stunners and then the cruciatus curse set in.

His entire body stiffened as if he were being electrocuted, but it was vastly more painful than that. He became very sweaty and would have screamed if he could have unclenched his jaw at all. He couldn't count the time he was like this – he could feel the pulse of every beat of his heart and each seemed to take an hour. He just kept thinking of this woman he so loved. And then he heard his name.

"Potter? Are you alright?" he heard Professor McGonagall ask.

The pain subsided and the sense of rejuvenation returned. He blinked and removed the washcloth from his mouth, wiping his eyes and then the rest of his face with it. Now that the pain was gone, the primary emotion he had was gratitude that he could help her.

"Never better, Professor, how are you?"

"I don't know why you'd ask? Why am I here anyway? I must see Poppy. I have things to do."

A cheer went up around them and Professor McGonagall looked around, mystified. Someone he hadn't noticed before from the opposite side of the bed stood up and leaned across toward him.

"Thank you, Potter," said Professor Snape stiffly.

Harry could hardly believe hearing such words from Snape.

"She is my friend and mentor, too," Snape continued as he extended his hand.

Harry shook his hand, and Snape's grip was firm but not overly so – it seemed sincere. Harry was amazed. Then Snape suddenly turned and glided away as if he was afraid he would be injured by showing warmth or gratitude. As he watched, Harry was certain that in the torchlight he saw the reflection of dried tracks of tears down Snape's cheeks.

He moved through several more, there and in the goblin clinic, and finally Hermione led him to the room where the injured Death Eaters and their allies were being ministered to and guarded. Against the far wall, he saw a too familiar silhouette standing over a bed. Draco Malfoy! Hermione was leading him in that direction, to the bedside of Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione quickly told Harry that the elder Malfoy had been backed into the area of the Whomping Willow, which whipped him badly with smaller branches before crushing his skull. He was barely alive. Hermione could see the reluctant look in Harry's eyes and understood.

"I know what you're thinking: after all the evil he's done; nearly getting you killed who knows how many times; laughing as you were tortured by Voldemort; kicking poor Dobby in a way that we wouldn't tolerate for pets; slipping the Riddle diary into Ginny's textbook. But if you are going to heal, you have to be ready to heal everyone. And remember the message in the Egyptian shrine last year, 'To achieve peace, practice forgiveness and goodwill.' What does it mean if you don't practice it with everyone? Haven't you been working with Reverend MacBoon all year just to be able to do something like this? Somewhere behind that evil façade is a person who might have been, and might still become, a very worthy soul. Don't you think I would provide the healing you're being asked to do if I had your power?"

Harry looked at her, gazing into his eyes, wide-eyed and earnestly. "Yeah, I guess you would."

"Well, you're wrong, but that just shows you how special you are. You think I would do it because you know down deep you will, and that makes you think everyone would act like that given the chance. I maybe could have taken it for Professor McGonagall and a few others. But could I force myself to love and care as you have for our allies and even enemies that we have not even personally known? No, not me. I don't have that strength in me. And as for this lot," she said, gesturing to the enemy fighters in their beds, "it's all I can do to provide the care I have to. It's my duty, so I go from bed to bed, checking conditions and giving potions, but I can't put my heart and soul into it the way your healing requires. But you think I could because you have that kind of strength."

Harry smiled. "That stupid 'saving-people' thing, eh?"

"Harry, it's not a stupid quality. It needed to be tempered a bit, and I think perhaps Sirius's death did that for you, but it's most certainly not stupid. It's what makes you the great wizard I've always known you to be – not your power, not your derring-do, but your heart: that great soul inside that never gives up trying to make things right. Malfoy is lucky it's you he needs, not me – or have I got you wrong?"

Harry was half-turned away, and looked past his shoulder at Lucius Malfoy. He could not afford to loathe. He would soon be facing more intense evil than Malfoy. And if his plan was to succeed, he would have to be able to reach out to absolutely the worst. But Malfoy had for so long been the human face of evil in their midst. And yet - how was Lucius Malfoy really that much different from Sirius? Both had been brought up being told that they were superior solely because they were 'pure blood,' that they were a breed apart from the rest of the wizards and far beyond any common muggle, that they were the natural lords of the earth and should cleanse it of all the vermin not like them. Harry had seen Sirius acting quite callously as a youth, and somehow he had turned away. Certainly Sirius's mother would have preferred the attitude Malfoy exhibited to what her own son came to stand for. "Right, then," Harry thought, "there's a person in there little different from Sirius. I'll do it for Sirius." Sirius had just told him not to fight the dark with dark, but with light – that is what he would do.

As Harry approached the bedside, Draco Malfoy looked up and sneered bitterly. "Potter? What are you doing here, – come to gloat? Finally got 'im, did you? Or do you think you'll have the chance to administer the coup de gras?"

Harry couldn't explain what he was about to do and Draco would not have accepted any words he could say. He just looked into Draco's eyes with gravity and sorrow, seeing not the angry, petulant, self-absorbed boy that his upbringing had made him, who had so often goaded and hurt Harry over the years, but the frightened child who loves his father, despite everything, and was terribly scared about losing him. Seeing Lucius Malfoy through Draco's eyes helped Harry harden his resolve.

Though Harry pulled his hood forward as before, Draco could still see Harry's face. Harry felt Hermione's hands on his shoulders to steady him as he concentrated. Harry didn't have to feel love – he had to will himself to love. There was much of ill-will and bad memories to overcome, but he forced himself to forgive Lucius's misdeeds, bit by bit.

The glow was feeble at first, but it slowly deepened. He squeezed the arms of the chair as first the pain of the whipping of the branches came to him, and he felt deep welts appearing all over his body, and then the sudden crushing to his head. He heard Draco's brief scream as Harry's head suddenly deformed, just as Lucius Malfoy's was. Harry felt something deeper than that – he was filled with the sense of revulsion and fear – he felt all the cruelty and disdain, all the hatred and isolation which had been the sole basis of the elder Malfoy's existence. He felt all this, but it did not become part of him as the injuries had. No, these feelings washed over, like ocean waves against a basalt outcrop. Harry felt them, but did not take them within.

Then Lucius Malfoy's skull returned to its proper shape. Harry was panting, and then his head too regained its proper shape. The green glow subsided, and he turned to look into Lucius Malfoy's pale grey eyes.

Lucius Malfoy looked at him and spoke. "Potter? You – saved me? After all I've done to you?"

Harry nodded slightly. He didn't know what he could say.

"I could feel you within my mind. My injuries are gone and … I'm seeing things differently, a whole new perspective," he said warmly and sincerely. "Thank you."

Harry smiled and nodded again.

Then Lucius Malfoy shuddered. "Ahh, now there's a whole new kind of pain. I feel … such shame: unh, the things I've done. And I am sorry; I'm sorry for it all." He shook his head regretfully. "There are some changes to be made, aren't there?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Malfoy."

"What's going on here?" shouted Draco. "What have you done to my father?"

"Let me take it from here – Mr. Potter," said Lucius. "I'll talk to him, see if I can't get him to understand."

Lucius Malfoy reached over and took his son's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze that only seemed to discomfort the younger Malfoy all the more. Harry stood up and he and Hermione walked away.

She whispered to him. "Harry, what just happened? You were healing his injuries, but he seems to have changed his entire attitude. He was … decent!"

Harry explained quietly and quickly. "The injuries from the tree were not the only illness he bore. Hermione, I've been suspecting this over half the night. Remember how Ron could hold that spider? Can you imagine him doing that before? Madame Pomfrey heals the particular condition, but I heal the whole person. Not just their body, but all the wounds of their mind and soul. Remember what happened to my Dad – quite a jerk, not in Malfoy's class, but bad enough. Then my mother helped to sustain his body and his attitude transformed as well. And it was in that year that followed, when she started spending time with my father and his friends, that Sirius changed as well – the next summer he didn't even go home. And you've seen what happened to Neville. He was hopeless for over four years. He even said he was nearly a squib. I've always been fond of him and often thought how I'd like to help him along, and he's been spectacular since I've been coaching the DA. Now there aren't ten students in the school who could score on him in a duel. And Malfoy - a more diseased and malignant soul you can barely imagine. He became pleasant and … nice, and … aware of the evil he's done."

"Harry, are you …? Is that your plan?"

"That's right, Hermione. The prophecy said that I would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord. He is called the Dark Lord because of the hatred that fills his mind. That darkness is a malignancy of his soul. I can defeat that hatred! That is what I have to vanquish! So what if he wants immortality – so did Nicolas Flamel. But Flamel was not filled with hatred, so he was no dark lord and went on living his happy life with Perenelle, until Voldemort set his sights on having the Philosopher's Stone. I have been practicing all night allowing myself no other emotions but love and sympathy and kindness. I asked Tonks to try to make me mad so I could test my ability to focus on love rather than hate. A month ago, if she had said those things I probably would have drawn my wand on her, might have even hexed her. Instead, tonight I just laughed it off.

"It never has been a solution to just kill Voldemort's body. He has too many protections wrought of Dark Magic. His spirit would return to what it was before three years ago, and someone seduced by his power and beguilements would help him recover a body again and it would all begin anew. Hatred is a sickness, a sickness of the soul. My mother gave me the ability to heal, and within me was always a great capacity to love. All the times that I've rushed into danger and pain to help others, I've exercised that capacity to love and it has grown stronger. All this healing has been tremendous for me. I don't know if I'm truly braver than the next wizard or witch, but I've always felt that there was something greater than myself to fight for. Now my ability to heal can be used as a great weapon – a weapon which will not destroy a person, but will vanquish the darkness within.

"This is the culmination of my Occlumency training. Snape tried to teach me to close off all emotion, but that was wrong. It diminished me. That's how he has approached life, but I couldn't do that. Instead I am now filled with light. And just like in the Parable of the Cave, the Dark Lord, who has known only darkness for many decades, cannot look into the bright light that fills me. It burns him. For over an hour now, I have felt it. He can't look within me, but I can look within him. He has been puzzling over this change and all he knows is that he cannot bear to focus on my thoughts. He has tried to find a path into my mind, but he can't. Now he has grown very tired. He has a body now and he has worked it and his mind very hard today. I can see even now that he's preparing a potion to restore Bellatrix, and then they will both sleep. But he's very worried, because he can no longer see into my mind."

By now they were out of the Hospital Wing and in a quiet corridor. Hermione gazed up into his eyes. She saw a kindness and comfort beyond anything she could ever remember. The closest she could recall is when her parents had tucked her into bed as a little girl.

"Didn't you just fight him while looking into his mind?" objected Hermione weakly.

"Yes, but he saw into my mind as well. And this time I won't be trying to defeat the man, but to vanquish the darkness in him."

"It will be very dangerous."

"You don't have to go."

"You know the answer to that, Harry. But don't we all need sleep as well?" This was the last objection she could think of to his plan. If anybody else had proposed doing such a thing, she would have thought of a million problems – but this was Harry and Harry would make it happen.

"Not me," said Harry. "You know that feeling of vitality you get when you get over a sickness or a wound. I must have gone through that recuperation over sixty times tonight. I think I can cure your tiredness as well. Look into my eyes. If this works for you, we'll do it for all the others who need it also."

Hermione faced him and looked up into Harry's eyes. The green glow began and she closed her eyes. He thought of how much he loved her, how many times they had relied on each other, how she had been patient and understanding with him when he understood very little, when he raged against his fate. Soon it ended and she opened her eyes again and smiled. Harry bent his head down toward hers and gently kissed her. He held it and soon her body shivered and then shook and he felt her face get flush. She quickly began breathing deeply. She pulled away and gasped.

"Harry! We're not like that with each other. What was that about?"

"Like what?" laughed Harry, jumping and thrusting his arms in the air in exultation. "I'm just so full of feeling good I just had to kiss someone. I'm just glad I'm not explaining all this to Hagrid. I like Hagrid, you know, but you're a far better snog."

She hit him in the arm, then laughed and laid her head on his chest for a second. "I'm so glad we're excellent friends and nothing more. I don't know if I could stand to be even more involved with someone who finds danger so readily."

Then she cried out suddenly, "Ooh! Ow!"

"What's the matter, Hermione?"

"It's just, erm, womanly pains. Hey, I thought you were healing me – why do I still have cramps?"

"What's broken?"

"Nothing I guess, but I thought you made things better?"

"I heal what's sick. You aren't sick. Your cramps are painful, but they aren't a symptom of something going wrong, but of a system working correctly. Like sore muscles after a vigorous workout, some pains are not the result of things going wrong, but of things going right. I suppose I can't tell you to enjoy your cramps, but at least they tell you that things are doing what they ought to be doing."

"And here I thought I was going to be able to get you to keep me from having pain when I have a baby."

"Eww, don't invite me! I'd be too squeamish!" said Harry, laughing. "C'mon, I'm famished. I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten since breakfast. Let's go see what we can scare up before heading down to meet the others."

Before they could even go to the kitchens, however, they were interrupted by the clomping of heavy goblin shoes on the stone and Melony's raspy voice. "Harry Potter! Please, come quick! Dobby needs you."

"What's the matter, Melony?"

"He's been in bed for nearly a month now and I'm afraid he might not make it. He couldn't take the stress of lying to you and yelling at us. Trying to manage it has been tearing him apart. It goes against everything in his being. At first he punished himself for it, but now it's simply the inner turmoil that keeps him ill. Come help."

The three of them rushed to Dobby and Melony's home in the castle, where Harry quickly set to healing Dobby. When Dobby woke up, he blinked his enormous eyes.

"Thank you, Dobby," said Harry.

"Does Harry Potter then know what we was doing?"

"Yes, Dobby. It must have been harder on you even than it was on me. We have defeated all of Voldemort's forces but one and some dementors. We could not have done it without you and everyone else tricking that old trickster."

"Dobby hates to lie, or to say bad things about those he loves."

"I know, Dobby. It's one of the things I like best about you. The lying is all over now. I'll come talk to you later. I have an errand with some friends."

"Thank you, Harry Potter," said both Dobby and Melony, as they reached out to each other and held hands.


	63. Raiding Party

Chapter 63 Raiding Party

Harry and Hermione were only a few minutes late meeting the others at the front steps of the chapel. Because of the time they had spent with Dobby and Melony, they had not had a chance to get something to eat. This didn't matter to Hermione, who had been brought food in the Hospital Wing as she worked, but Harry's stomach rumbled with emptiness. However, there was no time to stop – the time to act was now.

As they hustled across the courtyard, they noticed that the moon, already noticeably lowering on the horizon, was casting long shadows across the courtyard where the chapel was. Waiting for them were Reverend MacBoon and 22 wizards and witches, all chattering and laughing amiably, still enthusiastic over the days' events. There were adults, like Remus Lupin, aurors Tonks and Dawkins, Katie Bell and Fred and George Weasley, and students, fifth-, sixth- and seventh-years from every house. Harry's very sober tone contrasted sharply with that of the group waiting for him.

"I suppose you all know why we're here," said Harry.

"Of course," Katie spoke up, "because Ron and Ginny said you needed us."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron and Ginny. "Couldn't you have given them a little more detail?"

"Hey, mate, you said to keep the fact that you had a plan a secret," replied Ron.

"Well, yeah, but I meant from the rest of the school, not the people who will be risking their necks."

The joviality of the group immediately became a grim silence.

Harry addressed them all, in the loud under-voice whisper called for by nighttime meetings and secret plans.

"I'm going to Voldemort's headquarters. It's a small house on an island out in the North Sea. It's protected by a disillusionment charm, but with my connection to Voldemort, I can lead in all who choose to go with me. With the brooms I see here, it'll take about two and a half hours. It's guarded by dementors, so I need people who can control them. We're also going to petrify them as we did at the battle. We will face Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort. If you're willing, Neville, I'd like you to carry the basilisk wand and take Lestrange."

Neville nodded resolutely. "Sure, Coach, but why me? I mean, I understand about the basilisk wand, since I'm the only one here who can't conjure a patronus, but we have better duelists here than me."

Harry nodded back. "Perhaps. It's very close amongst the best anyway. Ron had his turn today: he's done his part. And I reckon you've a score to settle with her. Besides, I've got a special plan for dealing with her – I'll tell you about it as we fly. You'll just have to tolerate a broom."

"If you're asking, Harry, then I'm ready."

"Harry," said Lupin, "don't they expect us already? Voldemort sees into your mind, after all."

"Not any more. I've found a way to close my mind to him," said Harry quietly.

There was an excited whispering, and then Tonks said, "Can I tell them, Harry?"

"Of course, Tonks – you were critical to getting me there."

"He's learned to push all the negative thoughts out of his mind – nothing but love is left. Voldemort can't stand to look into his mind that way."

The hubbub was even more intense. Cameron smiled.

"But Harry," said Luna Lovegood, "how can you be filled with love and set out to kill someone."

"I don't intend to kill him – I intend to heal him."

The murmuring was even more intense and not entirely positive.

Ted Nott looked at him suspiciously. "Did I just hear you say you were going to _heal_ the Dark Lord? Do you want to explain that?"

"Of course. I don't want anyone along who doesn't understand what he – or she - is getting into. First off, it wouldn't do to just kill his body. He's got the same protections he did during the first war to protect him. Someday someone would be seduced by the power he wields and help him return. Also if I went with the intention to kill, my mind would be open to him; then we would be equal fighters again, and just fight to a stalemate. Ask Ron or Ginny what that's like – they saw it. To truly defeat him, the sickness in his soul must be healed. The healing gift I discovered tonight heals more than just bodies. Ron proves it – he used to lose control around spiders and tonight he was playing with them."

"So that's what it was!" exclaimed Ron. "I thought it was strange to be playing with them, but they didn't seem so horrible anymore."

"And after Harry healed Lucius Malfoy's injuries," added Hermione, "he became gracious, sweet even, and contrite!"

"That viper?" said Nott. "You wouldn't believe some of the nasty things I've overheard him plotting. If you can turn him around, Harry, then I reckon you can do it."

"Well, I'm not going to kid you people. He's not going to just lie down and invite me to do it. He'll fight in every way possible. Hopefully we'll have the dementors disposed of already, since he's gone to bed thinking he can have a long sleep and start plotting again tomorrow. But if not, you may find yourselves having to defend from stray spells while maintaining your patronuses. He'll be as dangerous as any wild animal when it's cornered. He won't trust that I don't intend to harm him. I can't say as I would believe it either. I don't want anyone there who doesn't want to face that kind of danger. I absolutely will not think less of anyone who leaves."

"Harry," said Fred, "if you fail, we'll all be goners eventually anyway, especially this crowd. I'd rather see how the book's going to end sooner rather than later."

"Thanks, George – or is that Fred? Darn, it's too dark out here," said Harry, as the rest laughed.

"Seven years!" said George, "and he still can't tell us apart!"

"There's one last thing. A battle is always unpredictable. If it should happen that he gets the upper hand on me, I want you all to promise me to kill me before he gets the chance. That will destroy him, but only if someone besides him kills me."

Luna stepped a bit forward, her eyes rimmed in tears in a rare show of emotion. "Harry, how can you ask that of us? Even if I got the chance, I don't think I could ever have the intention to make the magic work."

"We can't afford to let Voldemort survive, no matter what it takes. I've had my hard times, but I've had beautiful times in my life, and wonderful friends. I am not afraid to die. Death is but the next great adventure. If you cannot promise me this, I can't let you come along."

One by one, they each regretfully, quietly, promised. Remus shook his head, saying, "When James and Lily went into hiding, I promised them that if anything happened to them, I would look out for you. And here I am promising to kill you. When we get back, I'm going to kick your arse for putting us through this."

Harry smiled at him. "If we both get back, you're welcome to do it."

"Reverend MacBoon is going to say a few words now," said Harry, "and anyone who wants to can just slip away easy. No guilt, no blame, no questions. It's too dangerous for anyone but true volunteers. Reverend?"

"Right, Harry," said Cameron. "First, I'd like us all to pray together, at least those of you who would like to. Those that would, could we join hands?"

He said a prayer of thanks for a battle that would go as well as could be hoped, for those who had been killed, for those who were still recovering, and for the safety and success of those going on the mission. Then he allowed a full minute of silence for personal prayers.

After the prayer, Cameron continued. "I'd like also to share a few scriptures to contemplate on your long ride. The first is the 23rd Psalm, attributed to King David, who spent his early years as a humble shepherd boy, and found the image of the way the shepherd cares for his sheep comparable to how God watches over all of us: 'The Lord is my shepherd: I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul: he leads me in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever'."

There was a thoughtful whispering, and the phrase 'Valley of the Shadow of Death' was overheard being repeated. After this Cameron turned to the next passage he had marked. He continued, "Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God."

"Peacemakers," said Remus, closing his eyes, "I like the sound of that."

Cameron turned to the third passage, but chose to explain the setting before he read it. "When Jesus was preaching, there were those who would try to trick him by showing that his teaching contradicted the religious rules of their society. One day they brought before him in the temple a woman. And then the passage reads 'And they said unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us that such should be stoned, but what do you say? Jesus stooped down and wrote with his finger in the dirt, as if he had not heard them. But they persisted, demanding a response, and he rose up and said to them, He among you who is without sin, let him cast the first stone at her. Then he stooped again and resumed writing in the dirt. And those who had heard, convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning with the eldest, until all were gone, leaving Jesus and the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus stood again, he saw none but the woman and asked her, Woman, where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you? She replied No man, Lord. Then Jesus replied, Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.'"

Finally Cameron read, "In the beginning the Word already existed. He was with God, and he was God. He was in the beginning with God. He created everything there is. Nothing exists that he didn't make. Life itself was in him, and this life gives light to everyone. The light shines through the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it."

"I think another few minutes for silent prayer or reflection are in order."

They all bowed their heads and after a couple of minutes, Cameron said "Amen," and they all added their amens. Harry was standing silently, staring off into the distance, and the others looked at him for a sign that they should get going.

Hermione spoke up. "I've seen him like this, last year at the Egyptian shrine. We can get going. Harry? Ready to go?"

Harry glanced around at all of them and nodded without breaking his train of thought and mounted his broom. He waited for the rest to mount theirs, and for Neville to get on Harry's broom behind him. Then he kicked off, still deep in thought, and the rest followed right behind. None had left. They soared silently eastward into the dark.

When they got within twenty miles of Voldemort's island, Harry motioned for them all to fly near each other so he could give final instructions.

"We'll come in 5 to 10 feet over wave level. I'll know if Voldemort's awake, but not Lestrange. She shouldn't be: she just got her restorative potion about 4 hours ago. They're both tired and need rest. The last thing they expect is a counterattack on an unplottable island. Staying low will protect us from spells until we are very close. I'll take the lead; we'll all have to form a chain so I can lead you past the island's disillusionment charm. The rest of you handle the dementors – herd them up and then create an opening in Neville's direction so he can petrify them. If Lestrange is already out, I'll handle her. Once the dementors have all been petrified, if Lestrange is still able to fight, Neville will take the lead, but you can all help – just don't hurt each other. I don't suppose you have to be convinced to leave Voldemort to me. Once the dementors and Lestrange are out of it, get out – back to Scotland and Hogwarts. Leave me with Voldemort. Ron, you can take Neville."

"Sorry, Harry, that's the one part I can't do. Neville can go with someone else that wants to go, but I've stood with you this far, and I won't be leaving," said Ron.

The others all insisted on staying as well.

"Besides, Harry," added Hermione, "with your ability to draw strength from others, you might need us if a spell gets through – we don't know how far away is too far for that."

"Alright then," agreed Harry reluctantly, "but if things start to turn bad, kill me and save yourselves. And Voldemort won't accept healing graciously, so hide yourselves as well as you can while I'm facing him."

The island was a small rocky outcrop, too inaccessible and lacking in natural supplies to meet human needs to even serve as a seasonal fishing outpost, not that the jagged rocks all around it would allow fishing vessels to approach. Near constant wind and frequent storms kept any soil from forming, so if there was any native life on it, it was no more than lichens and well-anchored sealife. It didn't even provide sufficient cover for nesting seabirds or an accessible shore for seals.

The night was extremely dark – the moon had set, so they had only starlight. The starlight, however, was remarkably brilliant since they were so far from manmade light sources. Even in the rural highlands of Scotland, where Hogwarts was, there was enough manmade light – natural and magical – to reduce the full glory of the stars, but here a person could appreciate the name Milky Way for the star-bejeweled beltway that is our own galaxy as well as the innumerable other stars to either side. And yet the stars seemed lonely, in all their profuse numbers, due to their vast separation from each other.

Because of the darkness, they couldn't tell how many dementors were there. Harry had told them there were about a hundred dementors, but Voldemort had never precisely counted them himself. Harry and his friends came in and set down silently.

The dementors, having spent long months on the island without any souls with positive emotions available, were ravenous and stampeded toward the group. The invaders could see the onrushing herd and heard the excited rattling breaths.The patronuses were summoned; Harry conjured a wind to blow between them and the house so as to minimize the chance that Voldemort and Bellatrix would hear the spells. A few of Harry's friends were so rattled by the onslaught that they could not produce their patronus at first, but on seeing that the other patronuses were in control, they soon overcame that fear, at least enough to conjure their own patronuses.

Neville gave a soft whistle so they knew which way to create an opening. There were several flying patronuses, such as Cho's swan, Nott's raven, Lovegood's luna moth and Parkinson's vampire bat, that kept the dementors from floating over the barrier of patronuses. When the dementors made their way through the gap, there was Neville with the basilisk wand. As each dementor was petrified, the gap was moved enough to let the next one through. Neville had to keep backing as they kept coming along, prodded by patronuses from behind. Soon there was a closely-spaced hedgerow of petrified dementors.

When they got down to the last ten or so dementors, Neville called quietly to Harry, who was overseeing the process from a high point to the east and could only be seen in the pre-dawn dark for the starless outline he made against the sky, "Now, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Now, Neville."

At this point, Neville began shouting 'petrify' each time he pointed the wand at another dementor. Although this was not a proper spell and dementors cannot be stopped with a petrification charm, it served its purpose. Lestrange, who had normal ears as opposed to Voldemort's internal snake ears, was awakened by the shouts. As Harry, Ron and the others had discussed on the flight, she had been asleep and so was still groggy from that, the injuries, and the restorative potion. Clearly she knew something was up and she rushed out with her wand, certain that she would be able to handle the intrusion and unwilling to wake her exhausted master. Harry had explained to them on the way that Voldemort had not revealed to her that he could no longer see into Harry's mind; as a result, she would think Voldemort would be aware if Harry had come.

Harry crouched out of sight when he heard the creaking of the door and the running footsteps from the house. Lestrange didn't seem so intimidating in just her knickers, house clogs, and a pink robe she hadn't taken the time to tie. She stopped for a few seconds, wand at the ready, as she peered about. Seeing in the shine of the patronuses that their guard was being petrified, she ran again toward Neville and, pointing her wand at him, she yelled, "Expelliarmus."

Neville and Harry had discussed just this possibility. In fact, it was just what they had hoped and prepared for. If she had used any other spell, Harry would have blocked it. Being braced for it, Neville could have resisted. Instead rather than resisting, he made sure the wand slipped out of his hands tip first as he was thrown back. He caught himself with his hands and got some fairly deep cuts from the rough stone. Lestrange triumphantly grabbed the wand to make sure Neville would have no chance to retrieve it and use it. Like a baseball player watching the ball nestle into his glove to make sure it is properly caught, she kept her eye on the wand as it flew to her hand. Consequently, she never realized that she had just brought herself face-to-face with a basilisk behind a crystal. She was immediately petrified, in battle stance, with left hand up to hold her own wand, her right hand up to hold the basilisk wand, and her face frozen in a maniacal stare.

Neville was thrown back, but looked up and in the starlight and patronus glow saw her frozen face. He started to laugh uncontrollably. It was rabid in intensity, such that the rest became concerned that he had become quite unhinged. The rest let their patronuses evaporate as they watched him laugh. However he sobered up immediately when Voldemort appeared.


	64. The Final Showdown

Chapter 64 The Final Showdown

Voldemort ran out from the house, yelling at Neville, the only one immediately in sight in the predawn darkness, "You have lost me my servant, boy!"

Voldemort quickly drew his wand, but Harry apparated in front of him, causing him to draw up short. With an easy smile, Harry called out like he was meeting a neighbor, "Hello, Tom, long time, no see."

Neville wasted no time ducking behind the petrified dementors. The others followed suit, peeping out from behind. Voldemort was visibly shaken at Harry's presence and calm manner.

"Potter! How is it we aren't seeing into each other's minds? The spell is not completed until one of us is dead."

Harry knew enough not to tell him the whole answer, so he pleasantly replied, "I decided to close my mind to you. But if it makes you feel better about the spell, I can still see into your mind. I knew you were asleep, I knew that you were worried, and I knew that you hadn't warned your pet that you could no longer see into my mind - AND I know that you are afraid."

Voldemort glared at him, peering intently, trying as hard as he could to use either legilemency or the scar connection he was so accustomed to relying on. Harry gave him the chance to try and smiled benignly. Harry could feel Voldemort's reaction as he tried to look into Harry's mind – it hurt like trying to look into a floodlight.

Realizing his efforts were futile, Voldemort said, "Potter, we've just fought – neither gained the upper hand – why did you come here? Did you think there was something to negotiate?"

"Hmm - a magical contract perhaps? My uncle used to laugh that contracts were made to be broken, and that they only last as long as both sides prefer what they are getting out of them to the alternative. I know you all too well, Tom; you are resourceful enough to find a way to break the charms of a magical contract and go back to your old ways. Besides, we haven't all that much time as separate beings. All too soon, what separation there is will collapse."

"Then why are you here – we're matched. Neither can kill the other, it seems."

"We fought to a draw before because we could each see each other's thoughts and act in anticipation. Now only I see into your mind, so I have the advantage." Harry paused to let the affect of that change in circumstances sink in. "But you needn't be so afraid - I'm not here to kill you: I'm here to help you."

"What do you mean by that, Potter?" hissed Voldemort, very obviously rattled.

"You've been sick for a long time, Tom. You have been filled with hatred ever since you discovered you were a wizard stuck in a muggle orphanage because your muggle father rejected your witch mother and she failed to get you to a wizarding family before she died. I understand that: I hated the muggle home I was raised in, too. But now I don't. I understand that they fear magic. And I forgive and accept them for who they are. I was lucky enough to find friends and counselors that helped me see beyond the hate: for whatever reason you were not open to such help. Now I have come to heal you of your hatred."

"You still think there are such things as 'hatred' and 'love'? You fool! There is only self: when you have power, you take what you want and use whom you have a use for; when you don't have sufficient power, you protect yourself until you have the power to destroy those who would stop you. To think otherwise is vain. Go then with your sentimentality and leave me alone."

"You know I can't do that, Tom," said Harry benignly. "You have hurt people, and left to your ways, you will continue to. You will continue to try to find ways to kill me. I do not desire to destroy you, but I will cure the sickness in your heart."

Voldemort screamed, "There's nothing wrong that killing you won't cure!"

Voldemort flicked his wand at Harry's feet and a chasm opened up, but before it had even begun to open, Harry had apparated behind him.

"Nice, one, Tom. Some of my friends used that today on your soldiers. But I knew what you were going to do. Relax and let me heal you."

Voldemort disapparated to a nearby rock and summoned stones on the other side of Harry, but Harry had already conjured a magical shield which deflected all the rocks over Harry to where Voldemort had gone. He in turn disapparated out of the way.

"This is futile, Tom. Relax and let me heal you."

Next, Harry was attacked with a rapid succession of deadly or disabling curses. Harry reflected those that could be back at Voldemort, and converted the rest or disapparated effortlessly out of the way. As Voldemort scurried to avoid his own reflected curses and to locate Harry to send another curse at him, Harry laughed gently at the efforts. After a reflected cutting curse caught the edge of his leg, Voldemort paused, panting heavily.

"You're bleeding, Tom," observed Harry sympathetically. There wasn't a hint of taunt or sarcasm to the comment, nothing to say other than genuine concern. "Relax and let me heal you."

"Half-blood scum!"

Harry chuckled. "No more than you, but I'm stronger in that I don't consider it to be a matter to be ashamed of. Let me heal you of your shame as well."

Then Harry felt Voldemort searching for a weakness and thinking naturally of Harry's friends. It would be hard for Harry to protect them, even though he knew the attacks as soon as they were thought of.

"Get off the island!" Harry screamed to his friends.

Voldemort fired an explosive charm just offshore from where the others were, and the explosion sent an enormous wave toward them that would either dash them against the rocks or wash them out to sea. But they were quick and resourceful as well. Some of them used Wingardium Leviosa to lift parts of the wall of water so it passed above them, letting it crash on the far side. Others used Thermo to vaporize other parts into steam. Ted Nott, trusting that his comrades would handle the water and wanting to use the distraction, ignored the wave and wound an arm around a petrified dementor's arm to avoid being washed away as he shouted "Petrificus Totalis" and aimed his wand at Voldemort.

Voldemort blocked the spell and advanced on Nott. They were too close to each other for Harry to block the spell when he aimed his wand and hissed "Avada Kedavra." However, Harry had sent a spell to levitate a petrified dementor even before the killing curse had been pronounced and it was brought in front of Nott, intercepting the curse just in time. The dementor began to shimmer and evaporate, releasing all of the souls it had ever extracted from their bodies. The souls were rather ghostlike, and yet they were more substantial than ghosts when they were first released and began to fade as they went on to their proper existence. As each was released from the dementor, it got a joyous look of relief on its face and then rushed toward Voldemort, who showed his growing terror with each one, before each disappeared.

The wave conquered, the others each took cover behind a dementor, carefully keeping an eye on Voldemort as the souls rushed at him. As the destroyed dementor finally evaporated completely, Tonks snapped her fingers, and then pointed her wand toward Voldemort, shouting "Expecto Patronum."

Tonks's sheep charged at Voldemort, jumping at him. Within seconds the others had also cast their patronuses, which surrounded Voldemort, leaping and flapping at him, blocking his vision and his wand. As soon as he destroyed one with a spell it would be replaced. Harry approached and was allowed by the patronuses to get close enough to begin the healing process. As the green light began to fall on Voldemort, Harry could feel Voldemort seeking deep in the most convoluted recesses of his mind. Harry had never seen a need to explore this portion, but Voldemort had stored a thought magically sealed out of conscious ken which was designed to elicit fear and loathing in Harry, to raise his most visceral and instinctive feelings and resentments. It was stored so as to cause a reflexive response, like an instinct – an action bypassing conscious thought so Harry could not prepare for it.

Voldemort apparated to the low rise from which Harry had overseen the petrification of the dementors, and Harry followed, so that he was facing his friends as well, as he attempted to continue the healing. The patronuses, too, gave chase. Voldemort dropped to his knees and screamed, "Forgive me, Master Severus, I have failed you!"

Harry was momentarily stunned, frozen by the doubt in his mind that perhaps Snape was the true Dark Lord and Voldemort just his servant. Voldemort seized the opportunity – he wheeled around shouting "Avada Kedavra" and pointed his wand at Harry. The bright green spell shot from his wand and as it reached Harry, every one of the raiding party groaned and collapsed, many passing out. However, instead of striking Harry, the spell stopped and held.

At first the green light of the spell held stationary between Voldemort's wand and Harry's chest and then it climbed up both their bodies until it was a bright green rope connecting both by their foreheads, passing right through Harry's scar. As it rose it became filled with scintillations that had come out of both of them, and they both realized that this was the power they shared. The Avada Kedavra curse cast over sixteen years earlier was now going to complete itself. They must vie for control of the shared power. And so they both focused their minds on pulling it to them.

They strained and tugged with all their will and might, and at first nothing happened. Then the scintillations started to shift. They started to flow, very slowly at first, toward Voldemort. Harry pulled ever more desperately but they continued their inexorable flow to Voldemort. Harry felt himself being crushed down, even as he struggled with all the strength of his mind and spirit. Harry tried thinking of the people he loved, but it did not give him the extra strength he needed.

The morning twilight started to give Harry a view of the island, and he noticed all his friends still cowering behind the dementors, peeping out. He was sickened that they had not fled and he wanted to scream out to them to escape or kill him, but he could not. He started to look at them, but then he caught himself. He could not bear to look at them: he realized that they must be filled with terror and he was too weak to suppress legilemency. He couldn't bear to look.

"And so should they be," he heard Voldemort thinking with a chuckle. "Yes, Potter, your defense is broken. You are filled with fear now and I see your plan. Your friends should be filled with terror, for I will punish them most severely for their defiance of me. Those that can submit to my Imperius may be allowed to live, after suitable chastisement. I need new servants after all. The rest will be killed – after they have suffered suitably. How they must loathe you, Potter, for leading them to this horrible fate. It is, after all, what awaits all who defy me – your parents, the Prewetts, the Longbottoms, the Boneses, that goblin tribe, so many, many more who have received what is the true reward of those who refuse me. Let's take a look, shall we? You are facing them – read their fear!"

"No," Harry shouted in his mind, "I won't!"

But he could not resist. He was too weak from all that he had lost. Voldemort took control of his body and forced him to look at his friends and read their feelings. There Harry saw it – yes, there was terror, terror such as he had never seen, terror without bottom - but it was not at all the terror or hatred Harry expected, and there was something else.

When Harry realized the nature of their fears, he suddenly understood. Then Harry felt a hand supporting him and lifting him, not by any one part of his body, not even his body so much as his soul. Harry heard a voice ringing through him.

"Come," the voice said. It was neither male nor female, neither old nor young. Harry couldn't even say that 'hearing' was the right word to describe how he received it.

"Who are you?"

"The word Counselor will do, or perhaps Guide."

"A guide? For whom?"

"For you," the voice answered mirthfully.

"Then from whom?" thought Harry.

"From all that is. Come."

"I'd really like to, but I'm rather busy here, fighting Voldemort."

"You cannot do it by yourself. I have come to help - let me take your burden."

"But … I 'm supposed to vanquish him."

The voice of the guide laughed gently. "Fret not, Harry, and be not vain. If it is to be, it will be through you, but you need help. Everyone does. All beings rely on each other. Your friends have helped you this far. Now you need my help. At this moment, all things are possible."

"But … the prophecy."

"Accept that you need help. You are falling into the trap that ensnares so many of those who come so far on the path of practicing love: you have learned to help others, but not to accept help. You have heard 'It is more blessed to give than to receive,' and you have given of yourself magnificently. But it is also blessed to receive, when you have needs, and you give of yourself also in accepting help when needed. It is prideful to deny you have needs and it deprives those others who would do so of the blessings of giving what they can. Martyrdom is only good when there is no other good choice. Let me relieve you of your burden."

Still Harry hesitated and the voice said, "Let go. It is time."


	65. Treasure in Heaven

Chapter 65 – Treasure in Heaven

Harry began to relax and he felt the crushing burden of Voldemort bearing down on him lifted. It seemed to Harry that the Guide had taken it from him as lightly and lovingly as a parent pulling back covers in a crib to lift a newborn infant. Harry allowed himself to be taken where the voice would have him go. He felt himself leaving his body behind; no, not quite leaving it – expanding beyond it. He expanded beyond the snake-headed man he had been struggling against; he expanded beyond his friends and the island where they all huddled together in terror: he expanded beyond the sea and the Earth. As he expanded, he encompassed them. He lost all bearing.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Nowhere really, or rather everywhere. To show you things, the things you should see."

Everything around Harry had become totally black as he had expanded and then as his eyes – or rather, he thought, it must be his mind – adjusted, he began to see a gauziness all around him and through him. It was very dim and insubstantial, but had a definite presence nonetheless. He began to hear a faint music, much like phoenix song, but more so – more strengthening, more hopeful, eternal, the spirit of love reverberating through all Creation. Then as his perceptions adjusted further, he began to see innumerable splendid, shining threads thinner than gossamer, more fine and profusely interconnected than the axons of brain cells. He knew, though he did not know how he knew, that this was something infinitely precious.

The voice explained. "Beings reach out to each other and connect with each other, some intensely with a few others, some to very many. In the spiritual realm, such connections are tangible. Beings' very reality and existence in the end depend on their connections with each other."

"So ... the threads are our friendships, and loves, and …?" Harry was at a loss to describe all he thought was meant.

"Yes, that and much more – the kindness and charity we exercise toward others. 'That which you have done to the least of these, you have done as well for Him.' The good we do toward others is treasure laid up in heaven, all the more precious when given without thought of return or reward on earth."

"But, if these are the connections between beings, then at the ends, there must be …" began Harry, as he followed one group of strands to their terminus, and found a tiny pinpoint of light. Then looking through it all, he began to see all the little dots of light throughout. They were rather like the stars he had seen as they landed on the island, but they were vastly, vastly more numerous and somehow he knew they were more substantial and far more precious.

"Souls?" he asked, to confirm his perception.

"Yes, souls - of all the beings, where the essence of creation runs stronger and brighter," said the voice. "Look over there."

Harry saw one such pinpoint of light which appeared to be connected to more than any others he had noticed. It was no brighter than any others, but it heartened Harry to see it so thoroughly connected to so many others. Then his attention was drawn to one particular thread running from it, a thread that was somehow more beautiful and precious than all the others. It led a terribly long distance to another pinpoint of light, no brighter or dimmer than any of the others, although it stood out prominently for being so distantly separated from the others. Harry perceived that it was receding at a tremendous pace and the thread was stretching behind it. It filled Harry with a profound sense of sadness.

"Who …?"

"Tom Riddle."

"He only reaches out to one person?"

"No, Harry. He reaches out to no one. Only one person would reach out to him."

"Only one would …? Then that one is …" Harry was glancing back toward the very-interconnected point.

"Yes, Harry. That is you – you have reached out in care to everyone in need – friend and foe alike."

Harry looked back to Voldemort's pinpoint, barely flickering. "What will happen to him?"

"Even now, you care? But of course, I knew you did. If you die, he will lose any connection. He will simply cease. He will not go on, nor return to the Source. He will simply end."

Harry looked toward Tom Riddle's pinpoint and felt immeasurable pity. And before his eyes, the thread disconnected and the pinpoint winked out. Harry suddenly felt himself shrinking. He lost sight of the threads, and the pinpoints, and the gauziness; he shrank down and down until he found himself back in his own body, lying on the ridge of the island. Everything had gone silent until he began to hear the sounds of seabirds, waves and weeping. The warm sunshine to his right felt good; the jagged rocks he lay on hurt him, the moist drops falling on his face soothed him: it was good to feel.

Harry's head was turned to the left. He barely opened his eyes a slit. Every fiber of his body was aching and it hurt to move anything, even so much as his eyelids. Hermione was leaning over him, crying. He could hear others around crying as well. With effort, he forced his hand to move a bit. The edge of Hermione's robe was over his hand, so he caught the edge of it and gave a feeble tug. She started to look toward it and gasped.

"I'm thirsty," Harry feebly rasped. It hurt to even breathe enough to say this, or to move his tongue and lips to make the words.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed joyously and threw herself on him, kissing him all around his face. The others, too, started screaming and piling on to celebrate. Every muscle and joint in Harry's body felt like it would snap and be ground to powder, but Harry accepted it. He could take some pain for the people he loved.

Once the hubbub had calmed a bit, Harry was able to whisper, "Where is he?"

"Harry," answered Hermione, "after you collapsed, the spell kept going for what seemed the longest time. But all of a sudden, he just disappeared. Several of us ran up here. I started checking your pulse and your breath and I couldn't find anything."

"I checked where he had been," said Ron, "but all I could find in his robes was his wand, a few bones, a shriveled hand missing a finger, and some brown dust."

Harry rasped sadly, "I thought I could still heal him."

Ron laughed, and then said with both admiration and a little exasperation, "You know, Harry, it took Dumbledore until he was over 100 to get that crazy."

Harry forced a weak smile. "I must be in the NEWT class in insanity."

"Harry, can you get up?" asked Remus. "I can't believe you're comfortable lying on those rocks."

"Give me a hand, gently," whispered Harry, as Remus and Dean Thomas bent and took Harry's hands and slowly pulled him upward. Harry was unsteady on his feet and grasped Remus's robe to steady himself.

"You said you were thirsty?" asked Dawkins. "What's in the bottle you had with you?" Dawkins bent down and picked up a small green bottle and a brown-wrapped package from where Harry had been lying. "Looks like a wine bottle," he said.

Harry barely shook his head. "I didn't bring wine."

Dawkins tapped the top of the bottle with his wand and the cork gently eased out. He took the cork and gave a sniff. "Smells like wine to me," he said. "Really good wine at that." Handing the brown package off to Tonks, he said, "Here you go, Harry."

Then he raised it to Harry's lips to help Harry drink. Harry drank deeply and kept drinking. He was surprised at how much the bottle held. It warmed him and made him feel whole and peaceful. When he had enough, he stopped the flow and nodded. He could still barely move. Dawkins lowered the bottle and put the cork back in the top.

"Are you hungry, Harry?" asked Tonks.

"Yes, famished. Did you bring something?"

"Not me – that package you had is a loaf of crusty bread." She broke off a bite and put it in his mouth.

Harry chewed it deliberately and savored it. "That's good. More, please." She kept breaking off chunks and feeding him. When he nodded, she stopped and wrapped up the bread again.

"Hey, Potter," said Dawkins, holding up the bottle. "I thought you were thirsty – this bottle's full."

"Really? I drank more than I thought the bottle would hold. It must be a magic wine bottle. What does the label say?"

"Let's see, it says, 'To be shared freely; I will not fail to quench."

"Well, it says it's to be shared," said Harry. "Pass it around. I'm sure most of you are thirsty, too, and it makes you feel wonderful."

"Harry," said Tonks, "The label on the bread says 'I will restore, so long as I am shared.' Look at this – the loaf is whole again."

"I guess we should do as it says and share it," said Harry, and the loaf was passed around, and they all took as much as they needed. When the loaf came around to Tonks again, it was still a whole loaf.

Tonks wrapped up the bread again and took the bottle from Dawkins. She helped Harry put them in a couple of inner pockets of his robes. "Here, Harry. It seems these were meant for you."

"I'm just the caretaker. They were meant for anyone who need them." Then Harry looked around to his friends. "We have to get Lestrange back to the Ministry. Tonks, she's your kin: how about you and Remus taking her?"

"It was bad enough playing HIM last night," she replied, then added with a sigh, "but I owe you too much to say no."

Then Fred and George, who had been whispering and giggling in the back stepped forward, and George said, "We'll get her back to Hogwarts, Harry. From there the aurors can collect her by Floo."

"Why am I suspicious of offers from you two? You'll get her to Hogwarts?"

They nodded.

"In one piece?"

They nodded.

"You're not going to DO anything to her?"

"Harry, if you can't trust us who can you trust?" said Fred. Harry felt good to laugh along with the others at that.

"Anyway, Harry," said George, "What's it to you, really? How many times would you have been willing to kill her? Ron said you were none too gentle with her yesterday."

"That was to serve a purpose. Now she's helpless, so we have a responsibility."

"Ron's right, you are crazy," said George, "but I like the ways you're crazy."

Harry accepted this with another pained smile. "Maybe the Ministry will decide to just keep her as she is - that's out of my hands - but we've won, and we should at least act with some dignity about it. Ach, what am I thinking, talking to you two about dignity?"

They grinned, then said together, with hands over their hearts, "That hurts, Harry Potter – no one's more dignified than we."

"Well, if the twins are going to take her, then you're off the hook, Tonks. But I think when you get back, you and Dawkins ought to take care of her. For a couple of aurors, she should be quite a prize to bring back. For now you can wrap up Riddle's remains – the hand should be offered to Pettigrew's mother, that's all that will be left for a burial. The other bones should be taken to the cemetery in Little Hangleton and buried in the grave marked Thomas Riddle. I'll take the wand and discuss what to do with it with Dumbledore."

Then Harry turned to Luna Lovegood. "Can you get some sea water, Luna?"

"Sure, Harry," she said, conjuring a bucket with a long rope, which she used to draw the bucket back in after tossing it into the sea.

When Luna brought the sea water, Harry told Neville to lay the basilisk wand on the ground. Then everyone closed their eyes, while Luna poured sea water over the wand. The wand turned into a rooster, while the basilisk popped free. The rooster immediately began crowing at the dawn sun, killing the basilisk. Hermione conjured a protective cover around the basilisk so it could be studied later. Hannah Abbott offered to carry the rooster back to Hogwarts.

"Well, then," said Harry, checking his watch, "Darn, it's frozen." Then he looked at the height of the sun. "I think you'll all have just about enough time to make it back to Hogwarts before the Final Feast, given that Fred and George won't be able to travel so fast with their passenger suspended. Neville and I have an errand to run, so we might be a bit late, even though we can travel as fast as my broom will go. I'll keep in touch with Remus by mirror. It'd be nice if we can all arrive together, but if not, you can report in ahead of me."

"Harry, what kind of errand do we have to run?" asked Neville.

Harry smiled. "I'd rather not say. Just trust me – you won't regret it."

"I do trust you, Harry, but can we use the Floo network this time. I'd even take being apparated."

"Sorry, Neville, I need the time to think about what's happened here this morning. Besides, I'm feeling a bit shaky, so I don't want to try apparating so far with a person. Can you bear with me for a few more hours of flight time?"

Neville sighed. "If you say so, Coach."

"Harry, are you up to flying? You're still not moving so well," asked Hermione.

"I can handle a broom, and I'm healing, so I think I should be as good as new by the time I see you all again."

Remus then asked, "Before you go, Harry, are you going to tell us what was going on that whole time when the green light was holding between you two?"

Harry creakily put a hand on Lupin's shoulder and looked him gently in the eye. "I'm not ready at the moment. It was … I just need to think it through. Just let me say this for now: for whatever guilt you may have felt over the 'phony curse' deception everyone kept up all year, for the lies that were told, and for setting up a situation as dangerous as this past day has been, to the extent you think you may need it from me for anything done, all is forgiven. That goes for all of you. Be at peace."


	66. Report to Headquarters

Chapter 66 Report to Headquarters

Harry didn't know if his ears or his chest hurt more. He was determined to get back to Hogwarts for the year-end feast for his last year. He had Neville Longbottom sitting behind him on the broom. Neville had his arms locked around Harry's chest as hard as he could. Every so often Neville would open his eyes, look around and scream in terror. He could hardly be blamed, thought Harry, since Neville had never mastered flying, and Harry was traveling as fast and high as his world-class racing broom would carry them.

Harry could have taken both Neville and the Firebolt and hopscotched up Britain by apparation, arriving at Hogwarts' grounds in a few minutes. However, as much as apparition felt good to Harry, flying a broom was the ultimate and Harry felt like he had earned doing something he enjoyed. He told Neville he was not certain he could take both Neville and his Firebolt broomstick that far by apparition without splinching, and he had no intention of leaving either behind. They also could have taken the Floo Network, but Harry was not sure his broom would not be damages in transit, so he asked Neville to put up with the broom for one more flight.

"I don't have to like it," said Neville.

""No one could make you like it, Neville. I'll keep it as brief as possible."

"Well, that's something, I guess," replied Neville. "Well, let's get going – the sooner we leave, the sooner it will be over."

What Neville hadn't reckoned on was that making the time of flight short required making the speed of flight extraordinarily great. They had passed a fair number of muggle jet aircraft flying to America already. Harry knew he and Neville would not show up on the jets' radar since he and Neville were both too high and too small. This was little comfort to Neville. Neville had been uncomfortable with heights ever since he first showed he was a wizard when his uncle dropped him out of a window and he bounced; Harry had to agree with Neville that bouncing was not likely if Neville happened to fall from this height. Harry tried to explain that to travel at top speed they had to be high enough that there was nothing to run into, since he couldn't steer around much at this speed. Harry had conjured an aerodynamic bubble around them to reduce wind drag, as well as to capture oxygen for them to breathe. This also did not comfort Neville. The only thing Neville found tolerable about flying at this speed was the notion that it would be over all that much sooner.

Harry thought it best not to mention that the muggle governments had radar arrays watching the skies over Britain and that in response to an object as large as the two of them traveling at this speed which did not respond to radio contacts would probably either scramble NATO aircraft or attempt to shoot them down by anti-missile missiles. Harry had placed a Disillusionment Charm on them as they ascended, so he knew the fighter pilots would not be able to see them, but he was not so sure that the instruments would be affected by the charm. Just in case, Harry kept craning his neck about looking for something gaining on them, but he told Neville he was just looking for landmarks.

"They should just about be there now," Harry called to Neville after they passed the Firth of Forth. "We're not too far either."

Neville just clutched tighter.

Harry took out his mirror. "Remus?" he called into it.

A few seconds later, he saw Lupin's smiling face. "Harry! On your way then? Ho, Neville doesn't look too happy."

"He's not keen on brooms, but he's actually the happiest you've ever seen him. I'll tell you all about it when I get there," said Harry. "Are you there yet?"

"Yeah, we circled the Great Hall and looked in the windows before setting down out front. Everyone was inside, but they hadn't started the feast yet. I could've sworn Dumbledore glanced up and winked at the window. I think he's on to us. Hold on, George has got an extendable ear through the door. George, let me hear – it's Harry on the mirror."

"Hi Harry," came a chorus of voices.

"Harry," Lupin came back, "he's speaking now: he's saying what an extraordinary year this has been, with an attack on Hogwarts and all; how proud he is of all the students and staff. Now he's remembering all who were killed, naming each one – oh, oh, this is very sad,…" There was a long pause, then Lupin sighed and continued, "It's taking so long, … I hadn't realized there were so many. There must be over fifty, and that's not counting goblins and adults."

"Yeah," said Harry sadly. "That sounds about right. I came across far more than I would have liked."

"I'm sorry, Harry, that must have been hard, sorting through the living and the dead that way. Now he's asking for a minute of silence for them. … Aah, now he's calling attention to the fact that a number who survived are not at the feast – oh, I can hear it in his voice: he knows we're here – how does he do that? Well, time for our grand entrance. I'll hang the mirror in my robe so you can hear."

Harry heard the big doors to the Great Hall open and susurration from the students. Distantly he heard Professor Dumbledore welcoming them and asking them for an explanation, "and this had better be a good one!" he added in mock-stern remonstrance.

It was up to Hermione, as Head Girl, to speak up. "It is a good one, Headmaster, the best. Last night, Harry asked for volunteers to fly with him to finish it with Voldemort."

The school's hubbub could be heard as Hermione paused for it to abate.

"He had a plan and we left at 1:30. Harry led us to the North Sea island where Voldemort was."

"Yes," spoke up Professor Snape, "but didn't the Dark Lord look through Potter's mind and know you were coming? You'd be sitting ducks on broomsticks over the open sea."

"That would be true, Professor," said Hermione respectfully, "except Harry learned to block his mind to Voldemort."

"Really? He finally worked on his Occlumency?"

"Sort of. As he told it to me, he could never block out all emotions the way he said you wanted. But he learned to give up all negative emotions. With only kindly emotions in Harry's mind, Voldemort could not see into it, but Harry could see into Voldemort's. Harry knew this from looking into Voldemort's mind, so Harry knew Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange were asleep after Voldemort had given her a potion to restore her from the spells that hit her in battle."

Hermione went on to describe the petrifying of the dementors. When she got to the part where Neville was shouting 'Petrify', she was interrupted.

"Now hold on a second, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. "That just brings up something I've been wondering since yesterday when Mr. Thomas was petrifying dementors. A petrification curse would not work on one, and Longbottom wasn't doing it properly anyway - so why were the dementors petrified?"

"Because the wand that first Dean and then Neville used was a fake wand with a quartz cap at the end …"

"Trick wand, courtesy of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, 10 discount for Hogwarts students," piped in Fred and George together, as they had obviously practiced all too often, and then did a silly dance together with Ginny.

"And inside the fake wand," continued Hermione, after a quick grin at them, "was a baby basilisk staring out at them."

Everyone who had not been in on the secret gasped.

Professor McGonagall, eyes wide and face livid, responded first. "That is an incredibly dangerous sort of beast – WHO in his right mind would hatch such a thing? WHY am I asking that question? Hagrid!"

She looked down the table at Hagrid, who was doing a remarkable job of shrinking for a twelve-foot tall man.

"Well, erm, they said they wanted a pet, and Longbottom already had the toad to hatch it under. Anyways, Harry could talk to it in parseltongue and we got it to crawl up that tube – I thought it was a pet carrier. I didn' realize it was a fake wand. I … I made sure they fed it and cleaned up after it right."

Dumbledore smiled and said, "While I appreciate the results, Hagrid, I believe you may have taken 'Care of Magical Creatures' a bit too far. I do believe we are going to have to make out a list of forbidden pets."

Professor McGonagall pointed out the obvious. "We have had such a roster for years – it appears he views it as a _shopping list_ instead!"

Professor Dumbledore continued smiling and agreed. "Ahh, then, this time, at the end of the list we'll add 'and we really mean it.' Getting back to present matters, it seems that they prepared carefully, in that it appears there were no deaths or unintended petrifications. Do go on, Miss Granger."

Hermione continued. "Well, sir, almost none. Once we had the baby, we tested whether a basilisk peering through quartz would petrify dementors by testing it on the lethifold that we use for patronus practice. We also brewed a depetrification potion, just in case there were mistakes."

This time she rolled her eyes toward Hagrid, who surveyed the ceiling and walls and blushed furiously, with Madame Maxime next to him, rubbing his back and laughing.

It was Madam Pomfrey's turn to interrupt. "Miss Granger, did you test it as I have instructed you?"

"Yes, Madam. First, we petrified a ferret and then restored it. We also tested it on the lethifold." Then she resumed the story, "Well, then, just as we finished petrifying all the dementors, Bellatrix Lestrange came running out of the house there. Seeing that their guards were being destroyed, she ran out yelling 'Expelliarmus' and pointing her wand at Neville's. Well, of course, Harry had figured that would be the first thing she would try, so Neville let the wand he was holding go to her. Neville's wand came flying right at her, basilisk and all. She never knew what hit her – petrified in that maniacal stare of hers."

The whole school laughed and cheered at that.

Hermione continued describing how Voldemort came running out and Harry had confronted him so serenely, how Harry had tried to heal Voldemort even when Voldemort was fighting back and how Voldemort had attacked the raiding party and they had responded with their patronuses to give Harry a chance to heal him. Then she described Voldemort's cry of "Forgive me, Master Severus, I have failed you."

All eyes turned to Professor Severus Snape, who looked dumbfounded, opening and closing his mouth like a trout out of water.

"Headmaster, no matter how much you trusted Professor Snape, Harry could not stop harboring suspicions. He had always been so harshly and unfairly treated by Professor Snape, in class and out, that no matter how many times Professor Snape had helped the forces fighting Voldemort, even saving Harry's life several times, which Harry acknowledged, he could still not totally block out his suspicion that Professor Snape was really still on the Dark side. Voldemort had sensed that one remaining well of resentment in Harry and had made preparations to exploit it perfectly. Harry was momentarily stunned and Voldemort seized the opportunity – he wheeled around shouting 'Av-,' erm, the killing curse, and pointing his wand at Harry."

"The bright green spell shot from his wand and as it reached Harry, every one of us felt a pain like we had been kicked by a centaur – we all were knocked over, and some actually passed out. As we got up, we weren't close enough to see all that well, as we were behind the dementors and it was very dark. We could see that instead of hitting Harry and disappearing, as spells normally do, the harsh green light just held and lingered between them for the longest time. Then the sky started to lighten, and we saw one of them turn his head our way."

"Then the wizard who looked our way – it turned out to be Harry – crumpled to the ground. Voldemort continued to bear down on him even then. I don't know how Harry held out, but after what seemed such a long time, there was a massive flash of green light. I blinked and Voldemort was no longer there. The enormous red rim of the sun was just over the horizon of the sea, and we cautiously made our way up to Harry. Next to him was a pile of robes. The aurors with us, Mr. Dawkins and Miss Tonks, checked the robes and found a wand, some dry bones, a shriveled hand and dark brown powder in it. Most of the rest of us rushed to Harry instead. He wasn't moving, so I checked for a pulse, and breathing, and …"

Hermione's voice had cracked, so she stopped to compose herself. She went on sadly. "There were no signs of life. It was … horrible. After all he had done for us, after all we had put him through, after all he had risked and sacrificed to secure our lives and safety, I could find no signs of life in him. I don't think there was anyone there who wasn't crying. I don't know how long I knelt beside him there, but then I felt a tug at the edge of my robes, and I looked up and saw his hand moving. He said he was thirsty. And the crying redoubled, but this time for joy. It was marvelous. We gave him some bread and wine that were there. Luna Lovegood conjured a bucket to get sea water to douse the trick wand with."

Fred and George again piped in. "Trick wand, courtesy of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, 10 discount for Hogwarts students." And again they did a silly dance together with Ginny, with Luna Lovegood joining as well.

"AHEM! We doused the wand with the bucket of sea water, and it turned into a rooster, which began to crow. Of course the crowing killed the basilisk. The rooster was about to eat it, but we weren't too sure about how poisonous a dead basilisk would be, so I encased it until we could get it disposed of properly – or even studied."

Just then Hermione's presentation was interrupted by a sound like an approaching siren from beyond the main doors. Ted Nott and Susan Bones broke from the returning raiding party and opened the doors and in came Harry and Neville from the entry hall on the Firebolt. Harry was doing barrel rolls and corkscrews and loopdeloops and slow rolls and every manner of maneuver available. Neville was hanging on for dear life. It was immediately apparent that the siren sound was Neville's scream.

Finally Harry set down and Neville staggered to the nearest table, where several of the Hufflepuffs scooted down to make room. Such was the change within the school over the last two years that Harry could and did step to the Slytherin side and leaned against their table, as it was the nearest one to him, and he was as welcome as if he had leaned on Gryffindor's table.

Professor McGonagall saw Neville's distress and asked him if he was all right.

"That GIT has been flying like that for the last 15 miles, ever since he saw Hogsmeade!" gasped Neville. He grasped the glass of wine that appeared on the table, saying a blessing for Hogwarts' wonderful house elves, and took a deep drink. Most of the students, particularly the younger ones, tittered at hearing the great Harry Potter called a git.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at him, and asked, "And what has detained the two of you? You missed a delightful story from Miss Granger."

That seemed to perk Neville up.

"Actually we didn't miss it, Headmaster," he said, standing up again. "We've been listening on Harry's communicating mirror. We've been to London. Harry insisted on going there first. He's that kind of guy," said Neville.

"What kind of 'guy' is that, Longbottom? Late?" sneered Professor Snape.

And Neville walked right up to Professor Snape with total confidence, and spoke across the staff table more firmly than anyone had ever heard any student address Snape.

"No, sir, Professor Snape! He's the kind that could have come back here to the hero's welcome and celebration that he so much deserved, but insisted on taking his friend to London first so that he could use his new-found healing ability to restore that friend's parents to health! And so, Professor Snape, YOU can think of Harry Potter the way you will – this is always the way I will remember him."

Harry looked down, feeling his cheeks warming.

"So that's what you two were off to do. Why didncha say so?" said Ron.

"Good show!" said Lupin.

But Hermione was not congratulatory; she was aghast. "Oh, no, oh NO! Oh, Harry, you …, you great FOOL!" she yelled through growing sobs.

She buried her face in Ron's chest. Ron looked completely perplexed.

"Now, now," said Professor McGonagall. "What brings on an outburst like that? I'd like to think a kindly deed like that is in keeping with the highest of Hogwarts – particularly Gryffindor – ideals."

"I believe I understand, Professor McGonagall, and I think you will too, soon enough," said Professor Dumbledore, his voice cracking a bit, "but let us hear Mr. Longbottom's tale first, while Miss Granger collects herself."

Neville went on, a bit bewildered by Hermione's reaction. "We got to St. Mungo's about 9:30. We went up to my parents' ward. They were just as vacant as ever. Harry told me to go get my Gran by the Floo Network. When I came back he set to healing my Mum. He sat in a chair, and he asked me to sit behind him and grab as tight as I could to hold him up facing her. I had heard about the green light he has, but it was still amazing to see. It must be very draining because Harry alternately got very, very tense and then started writhing. He was very hard to hold onto. And then it stopped, and my mother focused on the two of us, and looked past Harry to me and said 'Oh my, oh my, this has got to be my Neville.' And she hugged me, for the first time in sixteen years, and we cried.

"Then Harry did the healing thing for my Dad and it was even worse. Harry got very pale and dripped with sweat. He looked like he would just fall over and die. But after several minutes, Harry looked up and said 'Mr. Longbottom, there's someone here who'd like to meet you.' I always thought he'd be a tough guy, you know, he's an auror and all, but he laughed and cried and hugged me too. Then he hugged my Mum and Gran and then started back in on me. Harry went off awhile, but after we had gotten most of that out of our system, he showed back up and we told them what had been happening the past couple of days. We kept it brief. We knew my parents had sixteen years to catch up on, but I didn't want to keep Harry too long."

Professor McGonagall then asked, "But if you were trying not to keep Mr. Potter, why did you come as well? Surely you wanted to spend time with them?"

Neville stammered a bit, clearly looking for what to say.

"Well, Professor, they said they would have to go through getting a check-up and getting checked out and back home and that Gran could catch them up on things over the past sixteen years. They said I should be here for the year-end feast my final year here."

"Neville, that's not all they said!" Harry verbally prodded. "Tell them, Neville. Tell them what your Dad told you."

Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, who would not back down. "Hrmm. Right, Coach," Neville reluctantly agreed. He crossed his arms loosely and looked off a bit, composing himself and, pursing his lips, finally said, "Right, then! My father told me, … he told me that, … an auror's mission isn't over till he's reported back to his HQ."

Neville raised one hand to cover his eyes, but everyone could see his shoulders shaking.

"Yes, yes," said Professor Sprout. "Doesn't that sound like Frank Longbottom – motivating his people by building them up!"

Harry started up. "Neville!" Something had occurred to him. "Neville, show us your patronus."

Neville sniffed a second and looked at Harry. "Harry, you know I've never gotten more than a large cloud."

"But Neville – you've never had a truly happy thought, have you? Don't you think you could do it now?"

Neville thought a second and, flashing an enormous toothy smile, straightened up. Pushing back his sleeves, he pulled out his wand and, pointing it, roared "EXPECTO PATRONUM." Out of his wand shot a silvery substance which formed into the shape of a thirty-foot Hebridean Black dragon. The students near the front had to duck under the tables as its tail swished. Then it belched a ball of silver flame at Hagrid, who was already in ecstasy at the sight of it. As it was a patronus rather than a real dragon, the 'flame' left Hagrid's masses of tangled hair frosted like snow on a pine. The great dragon then bowed to Harry, who bowed back. It nuzzled Neville, who was breathing deeply and staring wide-eyed, barely believing he had produced such a protector. Then the dragon unfurled its wings, took off and circled the great hall before disappearing into silver vapors as it headed for the ceiling.

"Neville," gibbered Hagrid, "that uz beautiful."

"Show-off," teased Ron.

"I didn't know I had it in me!"

"Mr. Longbottom," said Professor Dumbledore, with a warm smile on his face, "I happen to know that the primary impediment to your being awarded a NEWT in Defense Against the Dark Arts was the poor quality of your patronus. I do not know if the matter can be reconsidered, but I will see to it that the NEWT committee is aware of this, as well as the events of the past thirty-six hours."


	67. The Final Feast

Chapter 67 The Final Feast

"I believe we have a few loose ends to clear up," said Professor McGonagall. "First off, what did you do with all those petrified bodies from the island?"

Ron spoke up this time. "The dementors we left. If anybody wants 'em, or can figure out what to do with 'em, they're easy enough to find. Well, not really, since the island is unplottable, you'd have to have Harry guiding you there."

Harry interrupted. "Knowing how to release the souls in them, we'll need to do that, if we can enlist someone who can perform the killing curse." He glanced toward Professor Snape.

"Severus?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

"Potter has the Dark Lord's knowledge and can get to the island – let him do it."

"He hasn't the spirit to perform that curse."

"And I do?" replied Snape coldly.

"It is why I have always sought someone else to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Severus. Perhaps performing the darkest curse for a positive purpose will help you deal with that side of yourself."

"I thought never to perform such abomination again," he responded, "but for this purpose, if the Ministry will approve it, I will do my part in the endeavour."

With that, Ron continued about the petrified bodies. "Fred and George carried Bellatrix Lestrange back here."

Fred had a massive attack of the giggles, so George explained, "Well, we knew she was an old mate of Professor Snape's, so we stood her up in his office. She's right decorative there in her knickers and bathrobe."

Then Fred nudged George. Laughing even more loudly, he pulled the knickers and pink bathrobe from a pocket of his robes.

Snape's face went ashen, and he looked sicker than usual. All the adults and seventh years of the raiding party laughed uproariously, and were joined by the seated students and the teachers, but the fifth and sixth years of the raiding party, who still faced classes with Snape in the coming years, held up their hands to say that they hadn't been a part of it.

Dumbledore quieted them.

"As amusing as that may be, I think she can be draped and removed to the spare room near the Potions classroom until aurors can remove her. Mr. Filch, if you would ask a couple of house elves to assist you with that and ask one of them to guard her. Now, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger has said that just before you collapsed, you turned your head toward them – would I be wrong in guessing you were using legilemency?"

"It was not my choice, Professor, but yes, I was nearly defeated and Riddle took control of my body to make me look at the terror in my friends' minds."

"Was it what you saw in them that gave you the strength to win?"

"Sort of, Professor."

"If you can tell us, I think it would be instructive for us all to know what it was about seeing into your friends' thoughts that assisted you to overcome Voldemort."

"I think I can do that now. It will necessarily be only sketchy, but here goes. I hated to look: I was certain I would see intense terror at what fate would be meted out to each of them. But when I looked, that was not the terror at all. They were terrified at what was happening to me. And they felt tremendous guilt at having participated in the ruse with the phony curse that had led me to that point."

"Ahh," said Professor Flitwick, "so seeing how you were loved gave you strength?"

"Not exactly, sir. My thoughts were actually how foolish they were to feel guilt when they had just done their best to fight this terrible evil. How could they feel guilty for that, for doing the best they could? They had caused me no harm – some great frustration, but no real harm. And then it hit me – I was just as foolish. I had never accepted that I was not the cause of all the miserable things that had happened around me. I had made some mistakes certainly, but nothing unforgivable, but I had never been able to accept that for myself. Seeing that, I finally learned to practice forgiveness and goodwill for all, including myself."

Cameron, sitting down at the end of the table, smiled and nodded.

"Do go on," said Dumbledore, eyes glistening.

"With that understanding, I was reconciled to the Source of all that is and able to accept help. A voice came to me and sheltered me from the attack. Then it showed me everything – the entirety of all that is, the Eternal: all Creation as the manifestation of the mind of God. And I saw all the spirits of all beings, although I couldn't tell them apart, not even my own and Voldemort's until those two were indicated to me. All the spirits had connections between them, like silver threads. Those threads were the bonds of love and caring between each. Some of the threads were stronger and some more tenuous, some simple and some ornately braided, but they and the spirits the connected were beautiful and precious beyond any material objects, which were vague and gauzy by comparison.

"The spirits were all splendid: on that scale, they all seemed very simple and pure, like gems, with any flaws seeming insignificantly small, at least as compared to the wondrousness of the whole soul. They were all equal from that view: none was greater or lesser than another. That filled my heart with joy, since I often have felt that I wasn't worthy. I guess that's the result of how I was brought up or maybe because the title The Boy Who Lived always seemed like an ill-fitting suit on me.

"On the other hand, Voldemort did not take it that way. He saw all of these things through my vision; he knew they were real because he too felt how effortlessly the guide staved off his attack. He could resist the view no more than I could, but as joyously as I received it was how appalled he was at it. He was of the mind that he was the brightest star in the sky, brighter than the sun compared to the dim, distant stars of the night sky. Seeing that that he was not the greatest of all, that indeed he was no more significant than any other being, he was shattered. Of course, magic depends on the focus of the spirit. When his spirit was shattered, his ability to perform magic collapsed. Even the spells which maintained his conjured body were undone, leaving only the components: the bones from his father's grave, Peter Pettigrew's hand, and a bit of my blood. And with that, I returned to my body."

Dumbledore looked over his glasses. "And the power that you and Voldemort had been sharing?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Erm, yes, when his earthly existence ceased, the powers we shared came back to me. It is very nice not to be sharing that with Voldemort; but more importantly, my mind no longer has anyone else in it."

"With all the kind, generous and brave things you have done, I doubt anyone here would have suspected that your biggest stumbling block was simply learning to accept love for yourself," said Dumbledore.

"Well, hardly anyone," said Harry, glancing with a smile toward Cameron, "but one is not resolved with the Eternal through works, but through Grace. Who among us is so free from error as to achieve unity on his own? – certainly not I."

"Well, your victory is certainly good news."

"Yes. I only wish that everyone here could experience what I did, and that is perhaps the most wonderful thing I learned, that it is available to any of us. If we set about actually practicing universal love, any of us can have reconciliation with the Eternal in our lives."

Then Cameron smiled and said, "Tryin' to put me out of a job, eh, Potter?"

Harry smiled back warmly. "Never, Reverend. I know who's the teacher and who's the student."

Then Snape spoke up. "Potter, after all I had done in the Order, after all the risks you know I've taken to fight the Dark Lord, after all the times I've acted to save your life, you still suspect me?"

"Professor, my mind knew all those facts, but my heart hadn't accepted them. Matters between us have been, erm, difficult, so when I was surprised by Voldemort like that, it played on my doubts."

"That was a specialty of his," muttered Snape with a slight slow nod.

"Is that really so different from what you've done? You know I'm not the swaggering arrogant bully you saw in my father. And yet for some reason – perhaps my appearance or my name – you couldn't see past what your heart was saying about those 'awful Potter boys.'"

"Fairly stated, Potter. I'll give that some thought. It seems that there is both cause and opportunity for reflection now."

"So, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, "you said your heart _hadn't_ accepted that Professor Snape was against Voldemort. That is past tense: do you still suspect him?"

"No, Professor. Not at all," said Harry firmly.

"What's turned you around?"

"It took all day to sink in, but my heart tells me this: I'll trust anyone who sheds tears for you, Professor McGonagall," said Harry.

Snape nodded and sort of smiled – it looked like it pained him. "As would I, Potter, as would I. Well put."

Professor McGonagall placed her hand over her mouth and was barely controlling herself.

"Headmaster, there's one more thing,' said Hermione.

"Hermione, please, no!" pled Harry, anticipating what she intended.

"Harry, if what I suspect is true, then everyone must be told. First, they don't know the full extent of what you've done: just as Neville described, they think healing was just stressful because it was such deep magic. They don't know the depth of it. And soon, the glow of the day will wear off, and people will start to think of those you didn't heal, who will recuperate in their time. People will come to think you were being thoughtless or lazy in not healing others as well.

"Harry, everyone expects powerful magic like that to be stressful, but when you healed Tonks, I saw your leg break, and then repair. And when you healed Professor Lupin, I saw you make the werewolf transformation. And …, well there were just too many things you went through. It just went on and on and on and on. I was horrified and sickened. It seemed like each was more awful than the last. I don't think Voldemort himself could have put you through more than what you put yourself through. And each time I could see the reluctance in your eyes. When Madam Pomfrey administers a healing potion, she has no reluctance – she knows it has to be done - but she doesn't feel it. And this reluctance wasn't you getting focused – I could see the fear.

"Harry, this healing magic is not like more common types, where at most we get worn out by the deep concentration required: you actually took into yourself, and felt, and suffered, every injury you healed, didn't you?"

Harry looked down. His secret was out. He gave a small nod, and nearly every face in the Hall registered shock. Even Dumbledore, who had suspected this, seemed unable to comprehend the amount of pain Harry had endured over the previous 24 hours. Neville and Lupin sat down, weak-kneed, mouths agape, not having suspected the pain Harry had taken on their behalf. Madame Maxime beamed at Harry, her eyes glistening.

Hermione continued, addressing the faculty table. "That's why I got so upset about Harry healing Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom. It's not that I wouldn't want them healed - that's wonderful and Harry's doing that is simply beautiful - but he had already been through so much pain and injury for so many people. I'm sure he felt he had to do it right then before he lost his nerve to bear it."

Professor McGonagall had tears down her cheeks already. "Potter," she said, then more throatily, "Harry – you took all those injuries, all those curses, you bore them for … for so many of us? Why? How?"

"I reckon everybody just had to pitch in and do what they could do. And..." he breathed deeply, "that's the most helpful thing I could do right then. All of them would have died if I hadn't acted. I'm sure anyone else would have done the same."

But no one believed that this was so.

"But, Harry," said Hermione, "Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom weren't dying. I'm glad they're healed, but you had taken so much pain already …"

"They may not have been dying, but you can't say that they were living either – you saw them. Neville and I both lost our parents to Voldemort. I'll never have mine back, and I've come to accept that, but I had it in my power to restore his. If there were any way to avoid that pain, I would have, I can assure you. The healers had their chance. What else could I do?"

Hermione came up to him and said quietly, "If I had known, I would have stopped you."

"Yeah, you and what army?" said Harry with a gentle laugh.

"But, Harry, can't you take some care for yourself?"

"I want to. I'm not sure I know how."

"Then let someone help you."

"I believe," added Professor Dumbledore, interrupting this private discussion, "that there is one more matter to address while we still have an assembly. Mr. Potter, would I be right in assuming that Voldemort's final attempt to kill you occurred at just about 20 minutes after five?"

Harry was amazed. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore, I know that was the time - it froze my watch. How did you know?"

"Because, Mr. Potter, you remember how I told you that there is a life bond when one wizard saves another's life? I believe you were not drawing strength merely from those who happened to be nearby, but from all those who had such a life bond with you, although it may have been more pronounced among those nearest. Only magic at its deepest could provide the support you needed. Such a life bond is formed whether you or the person whose life has been preserved knows that your actions have protected them.

"Miss Granger described a 'centaur kick' that the rest of your volunteers felt when you were attacked. That was the sudden marshalling of the extra strength you needed to repel a very powerful curse – probably the most focused curse ever cast by the most powerful dark wizard in modern times, perhaps of all time. They were not the only ones to feel that kick. I want to ask everyone who was beset with a sudden severe pain at that time to rise, so we can all see what a difference Mr. Potter's efforts have made."

With that Dumbledore himself rose, followed quickly by Hagrid, Madame Maxime and Professor McGonagall, then the rest of the staff, even Snape (with some reluctance). This was followed by the scraping of the benches at the tables, as the entire school rose. Harry turned slowly, surveying the spectacle. Tears welled in his eyes, as the enormity of it pressed in on him. He felt very, very small.

"I just tried to do what I could."

"Yes, exactly, Harry. You did. You tried to do what you could. Again and again, you did what was right rather than what was easy – and this, this is the fruit of your labors."

Harry was overwhelmed. "I … I didn't know. Thank you, thank you all."

Professor McGonagall lifted her goblet. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. To Harry Potter."

And all the school raised their goblets and chimed, "To Harry Potter."

After the school had sat again, Professor Dumbledore gestured to the open spaces amongst the tables, inviting the returned raiding party to take seats. This they did without regard for which houses they were or had been in.

"Well, well," said Professor Dumbledore. "I had already made arrangements to put off the Hogwarts' Express for a day so that it could take more of our recuperating students. However, it appears that this gives us the extra time to accommodate a celebration. I do not believe I could prevent one if I wanted to, and I most certainly do not. We have paid respects to those who were lost; we will grieve; we will erect memorials; but celebration is the order of the day. We are having owls sent to all of your families to explain events and invite them, as well as having notified the Ministry of Magic and the various wizard wireless stations. Arrangements will also be made to assist muggle families who would care to join our festivities."

"In the meantime, some arrangements. There will be no House Cup this year, or rather it is awarded to all Houses, as all participated valiantly and admirably in the defense of the school and this victory."

With that, Dumbledore clapped his hands and the decorations took on the various colours of all the houses. The castle had a delightful rainbow of hues that was far merrier than any one house's colours alone could be.

Dumbledore went on. "Tragically, we have lost our Head Boy. Although it is something of a formality, I am asking Mr. Potter to accept that office for the remainder of the term."

Harry nodded his agreement. Dumbledore continued, "We have some guests here who may want to get some rest before the celebration begins in earnest: please accommodate them appropriately in your various dormitories and give them an opportunity to actually rest if they so desire. I also would like to ask the proprietors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes if they could be commissioned for one of their wonderful fireworks demonstrations, starting at, say, midnight, at the lake?"

Fred and George rose and looked at each other and exchanged mischievous grins and nodded.

George replied, "No, sir, you may not. We will accept no such commission. We will, however, treat the school and guests to a show. We would appreciate ten or so volunteers to come with us after the feast to our Hogsmeade shop to help us bring supplies over and set things up."

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm sure you will have all the help you need. All students assisting Fred and George Weasley may leave the grounds for that purpose. The fireworks volunteers may meet on the front steps. Now I think the time has come for the feast to begin, or we shall raise too high the ire of the house elves. Begin."

Dumbledore clapped his hands and the serving dishes filled with all manner of delicious foods. Harry doubted that they were any better or worse prepared than they had ever been, but they certainly tasted fresher, more savory, altogether better to Harry than anything had in years. The feast proceeded quite slowly, as the students were wont to mill about and visit with the members of the raiding party and their friends made in other houses. Harry endured congratulations more times than he could count and no matter how many times he tried to protest that it was everyone's victory, he was reminded that it was he who had prepared them all.

He was approached by the Patil sisters, who said they had unfinished business with him from the summer before. Before Harry could respond, Harry heard each of them cry "Oh," and put their hands over their faces. Between their fingers he could see bat wings. As they ran off, he looked around and saw Ginny turning back toward the Ravenclaw table, where she was sitting.

Despite Harry's great appetite, eating was a difficult matter, as he was so often interrupted by back slaps, handshakes, more than a few kisses. For tonight, Harry was public property. Some people would have become annoyed through all this, but to Harry it was as refreshing and welcome as a cool butterbeer after a very long training session.


	68. For the Time Being

Chapter 68 For the Time Being

When the Hall started to clear, Professor Dumbledore caught Harry's eye and nodded for Harry to come with him. Dumbledore led Harry through a passage behind a tapestry, pressed his nose against a door which then opened for him, and in less than a minute, they emerged into Dumbledore's office, where Professor McGonagall and Cameron were waiting for them. The fireplace had a very pleasant and cheery fire crackling. Fawkes cooed on their arrival.

"Harry," began a beaming Dumbledore, "I thought we had better talk before the press of the wizarding community becomes too great. They have already begun to arrive. First, I hope it scarce needs be said how pleased and proud I am."

"And Potter," added McGonagall, "I have to give you my personal thank you again. When I awoke in the Hospital Wing, I had not had my wits about me yet to remember why I was there. Later, I was told how you had saved my life, but I'd no idea that you had taken that torture upon yourself. I simply cannot imagine freely electing to bear that and I find it difficult to express my awe that you could even make such a choice."

Harry looked fondly at her. "Professor, I hope you know I mean it when I say that I would do it for you anytime. You and Mrs. Weasley have been the nearest I have had my whole life to a mother."

"Oh … Harry." She started to reach out toward him, then held back and put her hand over her mouth and sobbed.

"It's okay, Minerva," comforted Dumbledore. "It's just the four of us and he's not a student any longer: you can unbend a bit at a time like this."

With that, she abandoned all restraint and threw her arms around Harry's shoulders, crying uncontrollably. After a minute or so, she straightened up, holding his shoulders with her hands and looking up into Harry's eyes.

"I was there, Potter, when Hagrid brought you to your aunt and uncle's house nearly 17 years ago. I thought Albus was daft to leave you with those people, but I understood what he was saying about the importance of being brought up without being a celebrity, to say nothing of the protection afforded there. I have no idea how you came through it so well, but I am so proud to have had a part in raising and teaching a boy, a man, of such remarkable character."

"Thank you, Professor," replied Harry. "I hope I'll be able to live up to what you're saying."

"My boy," said Dumbledore, "your humility is delightful, and you wear it well. But don't ever let it be false. You know that you are a powerful and talented wizard who has already done great things – you needn't hide your light."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. Then he turned to Reverend MacBoon. "Cameron, couldn't you have told me what the purpose of that reading about the woman was?"

Cameron got a sly smile. "And what would that be, Harry?"

"When you first read about that woman, I thought it was to remind us of how forgiving we needed to be toward Voldemort, but on the way to London, as I thought about what happened on the island, I realized that I was like that woman – I was in need of accepting forgiveness, so that I could walk in peace. Couldn't you have told me that?"

"Sometimes, Harry, seeds have to be planted and allowed to grow. It's a thought I have been trying to gently get you to grasp all year. If I had tried to transplant the idea into your head full-grown, you never would have accepted it, maybe as an abstract idea, but not within your heart. Besides, at times, we are in all three positions – accused, accuser and forgiver."

Harry hugged Cameron, who hugged him back. "Thank you, Cameron. You've been a wonderful teacher."

"A person can only hope to ever have such a wonderful student. Can you tell me something, Harry? It seems you actually saw the entirety of creation as a whole. How was it?"

"Good," said Harry, with a mischievous grin. "It's good."

Cameron laughed. "I guess I should have expected that – what more can someone say? But did your experience show you anything about – the Eternal, as you described it – that you can tell us?"

"I reckon I can try. The best way to describe it is to say that I saw how we are all an interconnected part of the Eternal. We exist, therefore we are part of all which exists. The Eternal encompasses all things. It, or He if you prefer, is more than merely immortal – he IS all time and all things. I can now appreciate the irony that in seeking immortality and power, Voldemort shut himself off from both, and I, in being willing to give up all the power and life that I had, experienced both.

"I realize now that I was being given the opportunity to have at least a portion of God's own view of us – all of us special, all precious, but none above any others. What is most delightful to him, because his nature is love for his creation, is the ways and extent to which we reach out to our fellow beings. Love of Creation, love of God, love of others, love of self – they really are all part of the same thing, once you understand their unity: if someone tries to love part without loving the rest, he really is deluding himself and rejecting even that which he believes he loves.

"I found that we beings are a special part of the Eternal, for we experience pain, and joy, and love, and anguish and happiness uniquely, and as a part of the Whole and on behalf of the Whole."

"You sound as if you embrace this specialness of beings to experience these things – I thought maybe you had experienced enough pain. I was concerned that by now you would want to avoid all emotions and feelings."

"Oh, I daresay I've had my share of pain and frustration, and then some, but that's life! I was willing to die if need be, but I was afraid to really live. Now, so long as I can deal with it, I don't intend to avoid it at the expense of allowing unnecessary suffering. However, I learned that it is important that I accept and know pleasures and happiness, and I've fallen short in that."

"Do something about that, will you?"

"I certainly intend to." Then Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore, may I ask something?"

"Of course, Harry, in fact, I wish you had done so more often all along - and you can also call me Albus, if you'd like."

"'Albus' will take some getting used to. Why healing? Was that the 'power to vanquish the Dark Lord' the prophecy foretold?"

"Actually, Harry, I don't think so, at least, not by itself. Remember the prophecy had two different descriptions of power – one, as you say, 'power to vanquish the Dark Lord,' but another description was of a power the Dark Lord knew not. He of course knows the power of healing, but as with all his efforts only healing himself. Even muggles have rather sturdy abilities to heal themselves. Wizards even more so. I quite suspect that this is what gave rise to and preserved magical abilities, until those abilities became strong enough and varied enough to branch out to other functions.

"Muggles who know me estimate my age as 70 or 80, some guess even younger as I am really quite vigorous, as you well know. But I am over 150 years old. And I am far from the oldest sorcerer around: I believe you know Madame Marchbanks, who gave me my NEWT and OWL tests on several subjects – obviously she is substantially older than I, but we won't speculate on a woman's age, eh? When Miss Granger looked up registered animagi and found Professor McGonagall, she overlooked me because she only checked the twentieth century. Being muggle-born, she could not imagine the need to check further back for living animagi. But barring some unforeseen incident, I have years to go.

"Why can I expect to live so long? Because wizards have such remarkable healing ability – it's part of what makes us magical. A muggle who had been through what you have would likely be dead, or at best crippled. A good bit of our magical abilities are turned inward to our own benefit. There's nothing wrong with that, any more than it is for muggles to be able to heal their own wounds in their slower way.

"No, what is unique about you and to a lesser extent your mother's healing ability is that you are able – and willing - to project it beyond yourself. Your mother needed her wand to extend it far enough to help others, so she was never without it once she discovered her ability. She considered it irresponsible to take a chance on being unable to help someone who needed it when she had the ability to do so. Most students don't bring their wands to quidditch matches, but she had hers and was able to save your father. Apparently her efforts not only saved his life, but also began the process of curing him of some rather unpleasant traits he had developed at the time. The Potters were very decent and caring people, but as I believe you have discovered, your father had learned the overbearing arrogance that too many talented performers do. He matured remarkably in the year after his accident, to where he had grown from being merely the powerful wizard and quidditch hero he had been to being respected and honored as a good man. It was halfway through his sixth year that he learned of Sirius's nasty trick on Professor Snape and risked being bitten by Lupin to save him."

"But Snape, uh, Professor Snape, still blames my father for that incident!"

"Yes, Harry," admitted Dumbledore. "He still cannot understand it. He turned from Voldemort, but he has trouble believing that anyone else could mend their ways. He is not a bad man, Harry, but he is almost entirely unable to trust people, due to his upbringing."

"That's very sad."

"It is indeed," agreed Dumbledore, and he hung his head sadly.

"Actually, what may be more to the point in the prophecy is your humility, Harry," said Cameron.

"Interesting suggestion, Cameron," said Dumbledore. "Can you explain what you mean?"

"It's just this, Albus: when he learned that he could do this for people, he didn't feel so self-important that he would keep it just for himself or his close friends. He willingly accepted the burden entailed on behalf of anyone who needed it, putting his own temporary discomfort – right, more than mere discomfort – behind others' great needs. And what ultimately defeated Voldemort was the two of them seeing the true nature of beings. Harry felt ennobled at being an equal part of the whole collection of beings, where Voldemort was shattered to know that from the viewpoint of eternity, he was truly nothing special. His pride was his undoing, where Harry's humility was his shield."

"That makes sense, Cameron," said Harry. "I know the way his mind worked from the inside out and I know for a fact that humility was not to be found."

"It never ceases to amaze me, after all my years, to see how much I have to learn," said Dumbledore, "but I think you've hit the nail on the head that humility is the 'power the Dark Lord knows not.' I don't think I ever would have viewed it as a power, but in the right circumstances, I see how it is. I would suggest, however, that it is another side to Harry's ability to love without reservation – it allowed him to close his mind to Voldemort and to inspire the loyalty of so many who rallied around him and stuck with him in the darkest of times."

"Agreed, Albus," said Cameron. "Too many people fail to grasp that humility is love for oneself, as much for others. It is an embrace of our humanity – the ties which bind us all together as beings."

"The guide who helped me said that reaching out to others was 'treasure in heaven,'" said Harry.

"I'm so glad you remembered that, Harry," said Cameron. "That concept is rarely made as palpable as your description of what you saw makes it."

After a few seconds, Dumbledore continued in a new vein. "Now before we release you to the celebration, Harry, I'd like to talk to you about your future. First, though, Minerva, could you see to the trappings of the celebration – accommodations, refreshments, some entertainments. This looks to be a bigger hootenanny than the first time Voldemort fell."

"That would indeed be my pleasure."

"Before you go, if any of you see any of the Weasleys, tell them to welcome Percy when he arrives. I informed Arthur and Molly this evening that he has been serving as a spy for the Order for these past three years. He has been invaluable to me keeping an eye first on Fudge and then on the Department of Mysteries."

Professor McGonagall smiled. "It would be my pleasure to get those hard feelings set aside. I'll make a priority of it: we wouldn't want any unfortunate accidents when he shows up."

With that, Professor McGonagall left through the main door.

"Now Harry," continued Dumbledore, "let's consider some options for your immediate future. First, I believe you know that Sirius left his house and other belongings to you. There is quite a fortune in his Gringotts' vault and also a number of investment documents there which are now yours. Have Fred and George Weasley yet told you that you are a partner in their business? No? Maybe I shouldn't have said anything yet, but the goblins Hogwarts employs to handle our finances and accounting have also been handling accounts for the twins. The twins have treated your Triwizard winnings an investment, not a gift. They have been setting aside one third of everything not plowed back into the business for your account. It's worth quite a tidy sum now and grows daily. For all their shenanigans, the twins are both good businessmen and good men. I think I am as proud of them as I am of any of my students – except maybe one.

"And you should probably capitalize on your current fame and popularity – if you don't, somebody will without you."

"Professor Dumbledore, isn't that a little, erm, tacky?"

"Hah, you're asking that of a man who has his portrait on chocolate frog cards. Those cards would be a good start – the company has to pay royalties to living wizards on the cards, and yours will be some of the most popular cards for years to come. There are certain advantages, as well. Tell them I said you should get a sickle per card."

"That's a lot, isn't it? The whole pack usually costs just a couple of sickles."

"Of course you deserve that much and much more from the wizarding community. Of course, you're right - the price of the chocolate frogs will not allow such a high compensation. But you tell the company representative I said you should get a sickle, and you'll be able to get them at least up to 9 knuts per card. I only get 5 knuts per card, but the packs didn't cost as much when I negotiated that. Also this is very important: insist that you keep the original photographs. Here's where the real advantage lies – you can use them to communicate with all the Harry Potter cards out there. You'd be amazed at how valuable that can be as a resource. There's even a charm for looking into the photograph to see and hear what the prints on the cards see and hear. I'll teach you that one."

"Next, Harry, you will be offered book deals. Just see me when someone approaches you about that. There are few things worse than seeing your whole life's work made into a colossal bore by some hack who fancies himself a writer."

Harry cocked his head. "Maybe I could find a muggle writer who could do versions for muggle publishers."

"And risk exposure of the wizarding world?"

Harry smiled. "What muggle would take all this seriously? Muggles don't see magic in the world unless you bring them right up to it and hold it for them."

"True. There could be some money in that as well, if you can find someone trustworthy. Now how about quidditch – do you still want to play?"

That really caught Harry's attention. "I'd love to play more quidditch – am I good enough for professional?"

"Yes, Harry, you're as good a seeker as anyone playing. You could use a little training on strategy, particularly resisting other Seekers' tricks, but no one finds the snitch and flies a broom like you do. You would be paid ridiculously just because of who you are, but all the more so for being good at it, for what is still very much a part-time job, particularly for a seeker. With a bit of work, I think you would make the English national team for the World Cup.

"And that brings me to my last suggestion. I'd like you to stay at Hogwarts as a teacher or, more accurately, a coach. Madame Hooch has wanted to leave for some time, and has only stayed at my insistence. You could teach flying and apparation. Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey will teach you all you need to know about magical reversal. You have also well proven that you are uniquely able to coach the DA as well. I would love to see an entire generation or more of sorcerers as brave, decent and skillful as your students have become.

"I would rather you do those things than be a classroom teacher because I want you to have sufficient free time for a special project that needs doing. You are presently the only known person with access to the Chamber of Secrets, since you are the only known parselmouth. We really ought to find out what else is down there besides an enormous basilisk carcass and loads of basilisk skins. And as for that, I'd like to work with you on finding what magical properties there are to basilisk parts, just as I worked on dragon blood over a century ago. To explore, I would recommend that you take Dobby with you. In fact I believe I'll assign him to you full time as your helper so long as you are here. He will be thrilled, and you couldn't possibly have a more loyal assistant. There may be a number of traps and curses down there, and the powerful magic of the goblins and elves will see him through nicely. He'll even be able to apparate you out of there, so long as the entrance is open, rather than you having to rely on Fawkes or trying to steer a broom through that narrow passage.

"So, how does all that sound to you?"

"Overwhelming, but wonderful. Hogwarts is the first place that ever felt like home to me. It would be great to stay, at least for awhile, while I learn what it's like to live without some madman trying to kill me. I had kind of thought of becoming an auror, though." said Harry.

Dumbledore nodded. "It's good to keep an eye on your options. I think you'll find that the auror program will wait for you – they usually like a wizard or witch to have some experience out of school before joining the program anyway."

Harry nodded. "Well, that makes sense. I know Professor Moody would be appalled if I was an auror without being much more suspicious. And honestly, I'm a bit tired of fighting. Okay, for now, I'll say yes, but if something else interesting pops up …"

Dumbledore laughed. "Yes, by all means talk to me. If there is anything that has frustrated me more than your habit of stubbornly failing to go to people who care about you for help, I don't know what it is. Is there anything else on your mind? You seem a bit pensive."

Harry knit his brow and then explained, "Yes, but I'm not sure how to explain it. You see, I feel like I have to use my power to heal when it may be needed. That's not the problem; I want to do it. I know no one will force me to, but it's just wrong not to do so when you can."

"Harry," interrupted Cameron, "I remember you saying that the ability to provide healing would be a terrible burden, because you couldn't see how to say no. Are you still feeling that way?"

"Not exactly. Well, it _is_ a burden, of course, in that I will be responding whenever needed, but I tell myself that it's a gift that I really must use. I think I've come to see service to others as less a burden and more of an opportunity. I don't expect to be a healer and use it for every little problem a person can be healed from - just like, well, what I've done so far, life-threatening or unresponsive conditions. How can I say no to people who will have no life, or no real living?

"The problem is that I'm afraid I'll lose my nerve. It hurts - a lot. I've faced a lot of pain already – it's fair to say I've experienced more pain than most people do in a lifetime, and I'm not yet 18. It gets very old."

"I'm sure," said Cameron, with utmost sympathy.

"Maybe my body someday will just not let me do it anymore. I was really inspired and enthusiastic when I healed the Longbottoms: I'm not sure that if I tried to do it even now, a few hours later, I could do it, particularly knowing just how much pain was involved."

"Harry," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head sadly, "I wish I had an answer for you. My first inclination is to tell you to refuse, because I've grown to love you and I want to protect you from pain. But I also know you – it would hurt you more to leave people suffering and dying than it would to take their pain on yourself to cure it. I don't actually know what to tell you. You see, I've faced danger many times, but not so much of pain. Perhaps you should seek counsel with those who have known pain. However, I know this much – you need to be willing to allow yourself to take some sweetness in life to balance out the sour."

"Yes. That part I know - being willing to accept good things as well as bad was a great part of what I learned this morning was needful."

"Excellent, Harry – take some time to enjoy; you have truly earned it! And accept the wisdom you need wherever you might find it. Well, if that's settled – tentatively, of course – we had better get moving along."

"I'd like to go to the hospital wing first, if I could. I haven't had a chance to talk to anyone there. Are you going that way, Cameron?"

"I've spent time with all of the injured and their families, Harry, while you were off flitting about. I may make rounds again later, but I need to be in the dungeon where families are retrieving their deceased kin. Some won't be ready for it yet, but many will want spiritual comfort and counseling now."

"Yes, Cameron," said Dumbledore, "Your work in this war is far from over, isn't it? Come, Harry. I'll take you a quicker way."


	69. Celebration

Chapter 69 - Celebration

Dumbledore led Harry through a back passage to avoid the crowds in the Entry and Great Halls. Harry was glad to see that the population of the hospital wing was thinning. Madame Pomfrey's potions and Melony's goblin remedies had been at work all day bringing people and goblins up to snuff. The Death Eaters had all been taken out to Azkaban and other secured facilities. This included Lucius Malfoy: although he had a change of heart, he had still done terrible things, and the laws were going to be observed.

Harry stopped by Bill Weasley's bed for a cheery chat. Charlie had already been released and was returning Norbert to Romania for rest and veterinary care for minor injuries, mostly cracked scales. They all laughed as Bill retold what he had heard about Hagrid's efforts to get Charlie and his co-workers to let the dragons stay at Hogwarts for a while. Even before the Feast, Madame Pomfrey had chased away the rest of the Weasleys so that Bill could recuperate. He didn't seem to mind too much, as Fleur Delacour was allowed to stay and was giving him the hero treatment. They both thanked him for healing Ron and Madame Maxime, and they all hung their heads together sadly at the thought of the many good people and goblins lost in the past year. Harry explained about Percy and they all laughed about how scarily convincing he had been in his role.

Harry went around greeting the other few students still in bed, until he came to the Creeveys. Colin was still confined to bed and Dennis was allowed to visit, so long as he didn't pester the other patients.

"Hiya, Harry," Colin called, "some battle, that, huh? Sure glad we could be in on it! Sorry I couldn't make it with you and the rest this morning: sounds like a grand adventure! Dennis has just been telling me all about it. I wish someone had taken a camera, but then cameras and basilisks don't mix, do they, Harry, don't I know that?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Colin's enthusiasm. "So you're not upset with me?"

"About what, Harry? You only made both of us fit to be in a battle for the ages, saved Dennis's life, and got rid of Voldemort! How can anyone be mad?"

"Oh, I just felt like maybe you felt I should have healed you, too." said Harry.

"Harry, you worry too much. Not surprising, after all, you know, with all the times someone's tried to kill you, carrying the fate of the world on your shoulders, and stuff. But I wouldn't ask you to take my injuries unless it was a matter of life and death, especially now that I know you have to actually feel them. Don't get me wrong. I'm really grateful for your saving Dennis and all – I'd be heartbroken to lose my brother - but these are my injuries: you can't have 'em."

"It's not that I really _want_ your injuries."

"Maybe not, but you're too accustomed to doing for everyone. This wasn't just your fight, though. Those people would have been doing stuff to the rest of us whether Voldemort was obsessed with you or not. That obsession allowed us to call them out where we had the upper hand, but it was our choice far more than yours to face them. We're the ones that ought to be taking care of you, but you seem to have come through pretty well."

"Well, physically, but I'm still pretty annoyed with being tricked all year. I see the need, but I was really put through the wringer with all that."

"We knew you were Harry," said Dennis, "but we couldn't come up with a better way to make the terror attacks stop and draw them into a pitched battle."

"I know. I see it, but it's not nice being put through all that."

Dennis turned his side toward Harry. "If it'll make you feel better, Harry – hit me, hard as you want! Break a bone if it helps – I'm in the best place for it!"

Harry laughed gently. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't think that's the way I need to deal with it."

"Well, we're honestly sorry for the frustration it caused you, Harry," said Colin, "but not for the results. Now as for my injuries, I need them – they're my _Red Badge of Courage_ – ever read that one in muggle school? They're my proof that I fought bravely, too. You have plenty of stories of great adventures: I've just got this and the Battle of Gringotts, and let's face it, I spent all of the Battle of Gringott's on the roof of Madame Malkin's, safely hidden. I'll be telling grandchildren about my injuries in the Battle of the Forbidden Forest. If you take them away, it just wouldn't be the same."

"Not that I won't be doing the same," said Dennis. "After all, I was saved from sure death on the battlefield by the Great and Awesome Harry Potter."

"Oh, knock that off," said Harry, grinning.

Dennis put on a small child's voice: "Oh Granddad, tell us how you were saved by 'The Boy Who Lived'!"

Harry gave Dennis a playful slap on the head, and they laughed.

"Besides," continued Colin, "you were a mite busy, after all, saving those that wouldn't have made it. Madame Pomfrey will have me all fixed up by tomorrow, and she said I could watch the fireworks from the portico."

"That's great, then," said Harry.

"There is one thing you could do, though, Harry," bubbled Colin.

"Name it," said Harry.

Together Dennis and Colin lifted up their cameras and piped, "Pictures!" Harry grinned and agreed. He sat for pictures with Dennis, and pictures with Colin, and pictures by himself, and pictures with both Creeveys (taken by Fleur). When they had finished their rolls of film, Dennis said he'd go back to the Gryffindor dorm to develop these and get more film. Harry then made his exit and went back down to the Great Hall.

Harry barely got through the door before he was inundated with celebrants. Dumbledore was on the far side and seemed mightily amused as Harry was surrounded, his hand constantly pumped, and his cheek variously pinched or kissed, depending on the age of the witch in front of him. A few were even more familiar with him than that. It seemed like the entire Great Hall was filled shoulder to shoulder, none of them students or teachers. Nearly everyone added that they too had been awakened by severe pain at 5:20 that morning – Dumbledore must have put something about that in the letters.

After about 45 minutes of the press of people, few of whom Harry recognized, he saw Porphyrio MacMillan working his way through the crowd. Harry thought of all that Porphyrio had lost this year – his wife left a soulless shell and his only son killed; it saddened Harry greatly. Surprisingly Porphyrio was wearing mirrored sunglasses, even though no one had been required to since Harry took to the battlefield.

When Porphyrio worked his way through to Harry, he reared back and punched Harry squarely in the face, throwing Harry to the floor and starting a severe nosebleed. With all his boxing experience with Dudley, Harry could have dodged it if he had been in any way anticipating it, but he was utterly taken aback by Porphyrio's reaction.

Ripping off his shades, Porphyrio shouted in the suddenly hushed hall, "That's for you and _your_ bloody war, _Mr. Potter!_"

Before Harry could even respond, Porphyrio was grabbed by a dozen wizards and witches, who began to drag him off.

"DON'T HURT HIM," shouted Harry after them. "HE'S ALREADY LOST TOO MUCH!"

Harry hung his head. The people around him tried to comfort him that it was not really his fault. Harry knew that; finally he really knew that. It was just overwhelming to see the results of the war from Porphyrio's view. Perhaps, he thought, the punch would help Porphyrio see the futility of striking out at others and help him on the road toward mending. He made a mental note to write a long letter to Porphyrio in the days to come. An older wizard handed him a large handkerchief to stanch the blood flow, as a thirtyish witch with a motherly demeanour performed a clean-up spell to remove the blood from his face and front, and then patted one cheek kindly while she kissed the other.

Soon the crowd had forgotten Porphyrio and had resumed their celebrating, as well as congratulating and thanking Harry. When Harry thought he had had as much as he could stand, Dumbledore seemed to read his mind and steered him out through the crowd. The crush was little better outside, but at least Harry could breathe fresher air. He was quickly separated from Dumbledore, who gave him a hearty and bemused wave as Harry was swept away by the crowd. Harry could move nowhere without attracting a throng like a magnet collecting iron filings. The entire grounds were filled with celebration. There were various wizard and goblin bands distributed around, with various beings dancing all around them. It was a celebration like none before

It was near 11:15 when he finally could meet up with people he knew. Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny had helped cut through the crowd to give Harry a break. Neville, he was told, had gone home early to be with his parents, who were still too disoriented from missing sixteen years to join a celebration.

"Hey, mate, we were wondering when you were going to spend a little time with your friends," enthused Ron, rosy-cheeked from celebrating.

"Well, it hasn't been my choice. I suppose I can't blame people, being rid of Voldemort and all, but sheesh, what's a guy got to do to get a break."

"Here! Have a butterbeer," said Ron, producing a bottle from his robe pockets.

"We actually were very relieved when you made it outside," said Luna.

"Missed me, didja?" said Harry with a Lockhart smile.

"Not really – you just got people off of us," teased Ginny.

"All of Hogsmeade's just as crowded as this," said Hermione. "We went down with Fred and George to get the fireworks they needed. We really weren't needed - half the school wanted a chance to see the backroom of their shop. Harry, I'm afraid they are planning something you might not be fully, erm, comfortable with."

Harry shrugged. "I know those two – the only way to stop them once they have a notion is to fight them. I'm not game for that. Oh, well, it probably won't hurt me anyway."

"Harry," said Ginny, "you also ought to know that the Daily Prophet has already come out with a special edition, all about the Battle of the Forbidden Forest and our raid on Voldemort's island. They reprinted your Rita Skeeter interview. Only this time …, Oh, I don't want to say it, but you've got to know. She's given you a new nickname – 'The Boy Who Loved'."

"Oh, just great!" said Harry sarcastically, but with a laugh. "I thought I'd got past The Boy Who Lived tag and they go and pin that on me."

Luna howled. "Oh, I missed that – it's so funny."

"You know, Luna," offered Hermione, "you probably wouldn't miss so much if you would read the paper right side up."

"And you miss things reading them your way. Harry, it'll pass."

Harry smiled. "Oh, I know. Right now they could call me a leprechaun and I wouldn't care. I can't control Skeeter or the Daily Prophet or the twins, or … an awful lot of things. And I don't want to – I'd rather just let 'em flow on by the way they will. It's right crowded out here, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded agreement. "Luckily, it's a happy crowd and very little use of magic with all these people around or the muggles here would be really spooked. My parents were feeling rather overwhelmed, so I had to park them with Hagrid and Maxime over at his cabin."

"Well, let's head over there," said Harry. "A few minutes of peace and quiet before the fireworks would be nice."

They had to pound very hard to get themselves heard above the revelry, but finally Hagrid came to the door and fairly scooped them all in. There were greetings all around, and Harry was picked up and hugged in turn by both Maxime and Hagrid.

"Harry, I've got a bone to pick with yeh," Hagrid said. "When yeh came upon me and Olympe in the Fores' las' nigh', yeh didn' tell me how dangerous or painful it was gonna be to heal 'er."

"Hagrid, over the past seven years, you've had me dealing with juvenile dragons, blast-ended skrewts, acromantulas as big as elephants, hippogriffs, a full-blooded giant and any number of other life-threatening beasts and beings. NOW you're worried about exposing me to a bit of danger?"

"Harry, it was more than a bit of danger," reminded Hagrid. "Olympe said yeh actually saw yer parents and Sirius – yeh was as close to dead as yeh can get and come back."

"'Olympe said?' Madam Maxime, what happened to secrets? Unless…? That must mean – Hey, you're getting married! Congratulations!" said Harry.

On this announcement, acknowledged with grins by both half-giants, the whole house cheered.

"Yeh're not changin' the subject that fast, Harry Potter!" broke in Hagrid after a reasonable period.

"You know I could never say no to you, Hagrid."

"Was it awful, Harry?" Hagrid said quietly.

"Honestly, Hagrid, at first it was. The pain was worse than stunners or even a well-focused cruciatus curse; but after a bit it receded and it was wonderful to see my parents and Sirius. Seeing them, though, made me realize that what was done is done. We can't live in the past, full of regrets, fretting over 'might have been.' We've just got to move on, know where we've come from, but look to the future doing what we can to make things better. Coming back was just as painful, but I didn't mind it so, because I was coming back to the people I love. It was my love for all of you that drew me back and saved me - and as it turns out, I needed to know that and some other things through that experience to defeat Voldemort."

"Well, Harry," said Hagrid, "I gotta say yer a bigger man than me to go through all that."

"And that's saying something," added Ron.

"Harry," spoke up Mr. Granger. "I need a word with you as well. When Hermione used to describe you as sort of a dangerous boy, I thought she meant you were the sort to try and get at her knickers and like that, and that she was flattered by it."

"Dad! I told you we're friends, not, uhh, … get me out of this, Harry."

"Not so hasty, Cupcake," her father continued. "Harry, I could have dealt with that – I'm no innocent about the temptations of teenagers in mixed boarding schools - but Professor Hagrid here has been filling us in on the dangers you've led my little angel into. What have you got to say for yourself?"

Harry smiled. "Well, first, I'm glad that Hagrid doesn't know the half of it."

"Harry, that's not helping!" Hermione warned.

Harry continued, grinning. "I don't remember ever twisting her arm to walk into dangers. More often I was trying to tell her to stay back, because I didn't want her to get hurt. But I've always been glad she's been on my team. I hope Hagrid's also made it clear that there is not a more resourceful and clever witch – I know he admires her as much as I do. Do you have an image of Hermione up in the castle as a damsel in distress?"

"Well, I'm not sure," said Mr. Granger. "She's my little girl after all."

The witches and wizards in Hagrid's cabin had a good laugh. "Little girl, hah!" "Dainty little princess, hee-hee."

"Now you all just stop!" whined Hermione.

"C'mon, Hermione," said Harry. "It's time your parents know what you're capable of: out to the paddock, 10-second training drills, Level 1 spells."

"Must we, Harry?"

"They should know what you're right dangerous in a set-to."

They all went out to the paddock behind Hagrid's cabin. Harry and Hermione squared off against each other. Hermione was to attack first. As soon as Ron called go, Hermione began muttering curses, and Harry muttered countercurses and blocks and jumped or apparated out of the way of others. By the time Ron stopped the spar ten seconds later, the Grangers had seen over fifteen spells cast at Harry, all deflected or avoided. Harry assured them that very few other sorcerers could have dealt with that attack. The witches and wizards in the area had watched and were cheering and agreeing with Harry.

Then it was Hermione's turn to defend. In the ten seconds of the spar, Harry hurled some two dozen minor temporary curses at her, and only the last, an Impedimenta, got through. This tripped her backwards into the mud. More cheers, some 'Ah's, with a bit of laughter as well.

"Harry, you've got me dirty," Hermione moaned.

"Until last night, Mr. Granger, there were less than a dozen sorcerers who could square off against Hermione and even hope to get anything through. Now there are two less, unless someone unpetrifies LeStrange. So I hope you can see that while Hermione is indeed a young lady (Hermione just then pushed herself up from the mud and she promptly fell face forward) – and a beautiful one at that," he added with a bemused smirk, "– she is no frail flower unable to protect herself. Let me help you, Hermione."

Harry took out his wand and levitated Hermione to the edge of the paddock. The Impedimenta had by now worn off, and Harry said a little spell to clean off the mud.

"Well that's most of it – Tonks was my teacher, so a clean-up won't be perfect."

Harry checked his watch, which reminded him it was broken, and then looked in Hagrid's window to check the clock.

"It's time to find a spot. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, you have to come with us: wizard fireworks are like nothing you have ever seen before."


	70. The Harry Potter Show

Chapter 70 The Harry Potter Show

They all headed to the lake, and saw an open patch of ground near one of the trees. They wondered why it was open since it was such a perfect place and there were so many people around. As they made their way over, they saw two people in the open area. It looked like Remus Lupin sharing the space with Voldemort. Lupin waved.

"Harry, Hagrid, all of you, come on over. Tonks and I've been saving a space for you."

Ron looked into the blood red eyes in the snakelike skull Tonks was displaying and said, "Tonks, you're a sick, sick woman. I am not going to try and watch fireworks with Lord Voldemort, so unless you're game for a duel, just choose some other freaky look!"

"You'd be surprised how wide a berth I get like that," Tonks laughed. Then she changed herself to look like a smaller version of Ron. "This'll probably scare 'em even further away."

The rest all had a good laugh at Ron's expense, and then Tonks changed back into a more normal appearance, at least for her.

They all grabbed places to sit while waiting for the show to start. Harry was next to Lupin.

"It's truly magical," said Lupin to Harry. He was looking up at the sky.

"What d'you mean, Remus? It hasn't even started," said Harry.

"I mean the moon. It's nearly full. Even as an adult, seeing the moon that near to full would scare me to tears before. Harry," Lupin looked at him, "Madame Pomfrey had to examine me. She checked my spine, my ribs, my nostrils, my eyes – I've got a clean bill of health. I thought maybe you had just changed me back for this month, but that next month, it would be a choice of either the same old transformation to a werewolf or drinking that awful potion and being doped up for days. Nope. I'm not a werewolf. I'm not a werewolf anymore!"

"That's great, Remus. I can't be happier than to know that," said Harry.

"Yeah, me too," said Ron, with a laugh. "You were a beast at that time of the month."

Hermione stared at him. "Ron! I can't believe you said that!"

"Yeah, like no one else ever thought of that line – I may never get to use it again!"

While trying to tell Harry about being cured, Remus had begun crying with joy. Tonks gave Harry a playful shove.

"Thanks a lot, Potter: I just had him calmed down, and you go setting him off again. I've been dealing with this since he came from Pomfrey's office."

Smiling, Lupin composed himself. "I wouldn't have asked you to do it. When I heard Hermione say in the Great Hall that you actually underwent the werewolf transformation, I nearly fainted. It's an awful thing to go through," he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, it's bad enough – I'm glad I don't have to keep coming back every full moon," said Harry.

"I wouldn't let you. Just keeping me from dying was plenty," said Lupin. "I've lived my life hoping not to cause anyone else to suffer what I have."

Harry thought a second and said, "Well, for one thing, I can't fine-tune it like that, at least not so far. When I heal, I heal everything that's ailing. Too bad, you'll just have to take your cure. But even if I could have held back, I wouldn't have. I was in enough pain from your injuries – what's a little werewolf transformation for a friend then. Besides, that wasn't even the most painful cure I did last night."

"Still, I can't help but think how fortunate I've been, considering the circumstances. Dumbledore let me get my magical training, I had friends and they became animagi to keep me company and help me through it, and now you've gone to great pains – very literally - to cure me. It's quite overwhelming."

"Remus, we all found you worth it. I know I don't regret it. Just don't let yourself get bitten again, okay?" said Harry with a smile.

"You can count on it," Remus laughed. "I can't imagine why I'm laughing - that's just too sick a thought to be funny - but I feel too good not to laugh."

Harry then got more serious. "Remus, can I talk to you about something? I have a concern, and I want to ask someone who has known pain. I'm afraid that one of these days, I'll lose my nerve, that I'll look at someone who really needs help, and my mind will say 'I really want to help that person,' but there'll be this nagging doubt about taking the pain, and I won't be able to do it. I've got to be able to freely accept it all to make it work."

All of a sudden, there were gales of laughter behind Harry, from both Luna and Ginny.

"That'll be the day!" cackled Luna.

"Poor ickle Hawwy Potter, afwaid to be a hewo!" added Ginny, giggling.

That was more than enough for Harry: he stood, lifted Ginny up and tossed her into the lake. However, he hadn't realized that she had grabbed hold of the hood of his robe, so he was pulled in face-first as well. They fell together, then bobbed up waist-deep laughing. They tried to walk up the muddy lake-bottom, but Ginny slipped and grabbed Harry's robe again. This time they fell holding each other. And when Harry lifted her up, she was standing so close that her body, in her soaking Hogwarts robe, was right against his. They were no longer laughing.

They looked at each other a few seconds, then Harry said, "Erm, would you, … do you have your wand?"

"It's right here," she said distractedly, patting near her left shoulder, causing some jiggling in her noticeably feminine body. "Do you?"

"Erm, no." said Harry, patting around. "Accio wands" he said without a second thought, and they rose from about ten feet away and leapt into his hand. The surrounding witches and wizards goggled at his wandless wand retrieval, but Harry wasn't paying attention.

"Alrigh' now, you two," said Hagrid, laughing and stepping into the lake with one leg in its enormous boot so he could lift them out in turns by their shoulders. "The show's supposed to be over the lake, not in it."

As Hagrid set them on the bank in turns, Tonks dried them with a quick charm. Just then fireworks figures that looked just like Fred and George, except for glowing and being over 100 feet tall, came striding out over the lake. It was like something between a muggle laser show and a well-drawn cartoon, thought Harry, except the figures were three dimensional and moved more naturally. The stars, moon, and mountain made an awe-inspiring backdrop. One of the twins was using the Sonorus charm to amplify his voice.

"Muggles and magicals, beings of all types and species, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is thrilled to present for your evening entertainment the following fireworks show, based on the exploits of our favorite wizard not named Weasley. This entire show may be purchased as a box set, ready to activate by charm for display, in various sizes: room, backyard, field and WOW, and may we say it would be the perfect display every year on THIS day, which we recommend be named Potter Day.

"However before we begin the main event, we have a special tribute to another good friend. His name is Remus Lupin. He fought brilliantly alongside all of us yesterday and today. He has just this day learned that he has been cured of lycanthropy. That's right, folks, he WAS a werewolf, but he's not anymore, and consequently, he no longer fears a full moon. So Remus, we have a question for you – if you're not afraid of ONE full moon, how about TWO full moons?"

And with that the fireworks Fred and George turned around, bent over and dropped their trousers, waving their twenty-foot wide bare ends in a coordinated waggling routine. Almost the whole crowd began to roar, none more so than Lupin. The one holdout from the amusement was soon heard over the entire tumult, as Molly Weasley's voice was heard shrieking, "I'll kill them!"

The fireworks twins then peeped between their legs and said, "Oh, hi, Mum. So without further ado, we present to you The Adventures of Harry Potter." Then the fireworks twins faded away.

"Oh, no!" said Harry, aghast. "I need this like I need flobberworm earmuffs."

"Ooooh!" squealed Ginny, Luna, Tonks, and Hermione, laughing and kicking their feet. "Our hero!"

"Oh, shut up," said Harry, not harshly, but a bit exasperated.

"Quiet, you lot," said Ron. "I want to see how this comes out. No spoilers, hear?"

Just then the main show started. It began with a modified version of the Dark Mark – even the twins were not so cheeky as to make the actual sign. But it was near enough to cause scattered screams amongst those who had lived through the horror of Voldemort's reigns of terror.

The depiction of Voldemort's attack on Harry's family was not exactly as his memories had it, as he had never described all the details he remembered, but was quite dramatic. The whole crowd gasped as Harry's father fought with Voldemort, spells blazing back and forth until he finally was killed, and then his mother pled with Voldemort for Harry's life and was killed. The real Harry put his forearms across his knees and rested his forehead on them, while Remus put an arm around his shoulder and whispered, 'It's alright, Harry, let it out; it gets to me too,' and Ginny and Tonks rubbed his back.

Next the firework Voldemort turned to baby Harry. The wizards and witches in the audience knew what had to happen and many were jovially shouting "No! No!" Despite their protestations, a bolt of green light shot at the toddler's head, but it bounced back and the firework Voldemort became a silvery wisp and then disappeared. The magical folk in the audience cheered, knowing that this meant the first downfall of Voldemort, but the Grangers were appalled.

"Oh, my word," said Mrs. Granger, aghast. "Bad enough he attacked those adults, Hermione, but an infant?"

Quietly Hermione responded. "Mum, that child was Harry."

The Grangers glanced over toward Harry and then just stared upwards in shock, as the tiny lightning bolt scar on baby Harry's head grew and grew till it was the only light in the show. Then the twin's voice boomed out again.

"Ten years passed, and Harry came to Hogwarts, where the Philosopher's Stone of Nicolas Flamel had been moved from Gringott's for safekeeping. Headmaster Dumbledore had been reading the signs and knew that what was left of You-Know-Who was seeking it. Harry and his friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, (figures of the three appeared in fireworks battling a troll – or more accurately dodging a troll) figured out that an attempt was going to be made to steal the stone."

The firework figures then passed through a door which had appeared and were confronted with the giant three-headed dog.

"My word, Hermione!" exclaimed Mr. Granger loudly. "You fought Cerberus?"

"No, no, Dad, that's Fluffy, one of Hagrid's pets." (Mr. Granger glared at Hagrid, who grinned proudly at him). "And we didn't fight it: we played music to make it sleep."

And sure enough, first fireworks-Harry, then fireworks-Hermione played a flute and the dog slept, as the three figures dropped through the trapdoor into the Devil's Snare. The crowd cheered as fireworks-Hermione conjured a fire to make the plant retreat, and the Grangers beamed with pride. The key chase was absolutely stunning with thousands of swirling glittering lights like a school of herring being first chased by and then chasing the three figures. They darted through a door which appeared.

The narration then returned. "Luckily the next hazard, a troll, had already been disposed of by the wizard whom Voldemort – sorry folks, we've learned to say it and especially now that he's gone, we're not going to stop - had possessed. Then they faced a life-size wizard's chess set, only they had to play the roles of pieces. Luckily Ron Weasley is quite the chess whiz - Way to go, little Bro!"

Then figures of an entire wizard chess set appeared above the lake, with the figures of Ron, Harry and Hermione taking the places of three pieces. The game was quite spectacular, as wizard chess played at high speed in fireworks must be, and when fireworks-Ron sacrificed himself, wincing as the queen's blow came down, so that fireworks-Harry could gain a checkmate, the whole crowd gasped and applauded. The real Ron stood and bowed all around, until Hermione kicked his legs out from under him.

More narration: "Next was a barrier of potions and logic which would make a nice read, but quite a poor show, so we just show some bottles flying around their heads and give due credit – Hermione Granger solved the logic puzzle. But only one could go on. Hermione returned to help Ron and try to get help for Harry. Harry then proceeded."

The fireworks then showed the whole confrontation with Professor Quirrell, the unwrapping of the turban (everyone screamed very nicely) and the final fight, with the fireworks-Quirrell screaming in pain as it touched Harry. It ended with fireworks-Harry standing alone, holding up the Philosopher's Stone. Harry groaned at that, knowing he had been knocked out by the fight, but he had to allow for dramatic license.

"The next year," the narration continued, "Voldemort's 16-year-old self was released through the medium of an enchanted diary and opened the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. Several students were petrified by the monster released, including Hermione Granger (and with this the fireworks-Hermione was shown going flat as a board, then floating down like a leaf to rest on the surface of the lake), but not before she figured out that the monster of the Chamber was a thousand-year-old basilisk. Armed with this knowledge, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter entered the Chamber with Gilderoy Lockhart when our sister Ginny Weasley was taken by the diary-Voldemort into the Chamber so that he could become a physical being."

The figures of Ron, Harry and Lockhart appeared, with fireworks-Harry hissing at the loo sinks to open the Chamber and the three of them sliding down. The real Ginny had her face covered with her hands, but looked through her fingers at the show.

Fireworks-Lockhart tripped fireworks-Ron and then tried to curse fireworks-Harry, with the wand backfiring and collapsing the tunnel between them. The cave-in was awesome in fireworks. Fireworks-Harry went on and found the unconscious fireworks-Ginny. The real Ginny began sobbing openly. Harry put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. The fireworks showed the entire confrontation with Tom Riddle and the basilisk.

"Cor, mate," said Ron. "Was that beast really that big?"

Harry glanced up again as the twins' representation of phoenixsong was heard (nice, but nothing like the real thing) and the fireworks-Fawkes pecked out the eyes of the basilisk. "Actually a good bit bigger."

Ginny kept sobbing as she peeked up at the show, becoming more rapt as the fireworks-Harry thrust the sword through the roof of the basilisk's mouth, then withdrew with a fang in his arm, followed by Fawkes's healing tears and Harry's destruction of the diary with the fang. As the fireworks-Harry comforted the fireworks-Ginny and helped her up, the real Harry did the same.

"C'mon, Ginny, that's all of this I can take, too. Let's have a walk."

A/N Since I was asked, I thought I should say that I do have a sequel in the works. It picks up the morning after HP and The War Within ends. Some of it was originally in a six-chapter epilogue that I had previously written, but I have reworked most of it and I am expanding on it greatly. Without giving much, if anything, away, it deals with Harry finding that life without Voldemort and the war is not as simple and rosy as he had anticipated. I'll have to confess, though, it's been coming along kind of slow.

And by the way, thanks to everyone who has been reading, and especially those giving feedback. I realize that to non-religious people, the religion may have been a bit heavy, but I was writing also to religious people and trying to express my view of what doing God's will trulyrequires, and why. In the words of the old hymn, "To worship rightly is to love each other, each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer." And while a few sections may have been a bit heavy, it's not as if the beginning didn't warn you there would be religious content.


	71. Resolutions

Chapter 71 Resolutions

Harry had his arm around Ginny and she continued to sob as they wended their way through the seated crowd. Many people and other beings there recognized Harry and waved or gave a thumbs-up, which Harry returned with his free hand. Luckily all were so enjoying the show they chose not to pester Harry. He and Ginny made their way back up to the castle and found a secluded bench to sit on.

"Harry, I hadn't thought much about what happened in the Chamber over the years. I mean, sometimes, I gave some thought to being possessed, and whether there was any lingering damage, but, well, when I woke up down there, there was just a bit of the basilisk visible and you were there – a right sight. I was too shaken up that evening to remember what you said happened. I had no idea what you had faced. For me!"

"Yeah, well, you know, I had to give it a go. I couldn't just walk away."

Ginny threw her arms around his neck. "Please don't ever leave me," she cried.

Harry hugged her back, and then pushed away a bit to look in her eyes. "Ginny, I don't want a life with someone because she's afraid, or grateful, or pities herself or me. That won't last and we'd end up miserable. You're quite the fighter now yourself. You don't need to be taken care of."

"But Harry, …" she began and he quieted her.

"I've sort of been avoiding you since the battle. You see, there's something I need to confess. I know I had promised never to use legilemency on my friends, but when we were on the island, I wasn't in control when Riddle made me read your minds. I fought it, but had no strength. In addition to seeing the foolishness of the guilt you all felt, I saw how you really felt about me. I had never felt such relief or joy in my life as when I saw how much you really cared."

"Oh, Harry, why would you have been in doubt about that?"

"Well, the way Hermione made it sound yesterday morning, it was all part of the plan – you volunteered, you got detentions so you could study Occlumency to hide your mind from me, you got roped into exploring the caves with me, you knew when I was going to be most vulnerable and then you came to me willing to be my support and share your eyes and, well, all the things we've shared. She showed how it was all a piece of the plan. You see, it sounded like it was just a job you had to do to make the plan work. I thought you had been remarkably convincing, and I was terribly hurt, angry and confused. I just accepted it, though, as part of what I deserved, as the guy who made all the bad things happen, but was key to putting a stop to it. I can't begin to tell you how overjoyed I was to find that all you were hiding was the plan, and that you really did love me."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry that you had to be put through that, and a bit annoyed that you ever doubted, but I am glad that you've seen the truth. Of all people, I can certainly forgive doing something while under Voldemort's control." She squeezed her arms around him. "But don't you dare look in my mind ever again – that excuse is gone!"

Harry laughed. "I won't."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"You know how I feel about you. We've been very close and affectionate, but you haven't really said how you feel."

"How about if I show you?"

Ginny smiled on one side of her mouth. "Do you think I'm the sort of turnip who'd fall for a line like that?"

"I didn't mean to show you _that_ way. I meant with a kiss."

"Well, we've kissed plenty, Harry, but if you think you can make it more special, I'll let you have a go."

Harry looked deeply in her eyes. He bent down and, putting his entire concentration and powers into his feelings for her, he began to kiss her. After a long kiss, he said very quietly, "I love you, too."

Ginny gasped, and responded quietly, "Lucky for you, buster: you can't give a girl a kiss like that and just walk away."

"I have no intention of walking away."

"Yeah," said Ginny, still catching her breath, 'you say that, but you'll be off at auror school or some-such next year, forgetting all about schoolgirls."

Harry shook his head. "I'll be here next year as instructor. I'll be working with Dumbledore on research and skills. It'll give me some time to figure out how to live life without someone trying to kill me. One of the great attractions of that arrangement is that you'll still be here."

Harry and Ginny spent a nice long time, just holding each other. They hugged, made meaningless conversation, just enjoyed being together. After a time they noticed the sounds of people moving in the area and realized that the show must have ended. Soon they heard a deep voiced man pointedly clearing his throat to catch their attention. Harry turned to him.

"May I help you?" offered Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I'd like to talk to you about appearing on our famous wizard cards, the ones that come with chocolate frogs," explained the wizard, dressed in robes and grossly oversized tam, all the garments bright orange and covered with images of chocolate frogs, which were actively hopping and crawling all around them.

"I never would have guessed: not exactly subtle, are you?" said Harry, indicating the robes, at which the man just grinned. "Ginny, Professor Dumbledore told me to expect this. I need to do a bit of negotiation here. Will you be okay?"

Ginny smiled mischievously at him and pointed her wand at the sky, shouting "Valentina!" Red sparks shot from the tip of her wand, erupting into an enormous red heart in the sky which lingered, pulsing.

"Don't be too long," she said, walking off.

The man grinned and jerked a thumb toward the display in the sky. "Like love potions – all the witches pick that one up by third year, and we wizards haven't got a clue."

Harry and the man went into the entry hall and talked, working out the details. After settling the terms, the man took some fresh pictures. Harry then saw Ron and

Hermione getting a butterbeer. He called them over, put his arm around their shoulders and said "Shoot." The man took a picture.

"What was that about?" asked Ron.

"Oh, that was your picture for a Chocolate Frog card."

"What?" cried Hermione. "My hair's a fright."

"How else would you be recognized?" laughed Harry. "Listen, there's going to be a series of 'Harry Potter' cards with different things I've gotten into. There had to be at least a couple with you two also. I couldn't have survived without you."

"That's cool," said Ron. "Any gold in it for us?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I'm getting 12 knuts for every Potter card, except the ones with the three of us – we each get 4 knuts for those. You'll be owled a contract and release next week. They plan the new cards to be released in a couple of weeks."

"Well, you know me, Harry," said Ron, "I don't mind a bit of gold coming in."

"Do we get to review what the card will say?" said Hermione. "I don't want it to make me out to be some Harry Potter flunky, or worse, a groupie."

"Oh, do I have groupies?"

"Actually, Harry, there have been a number of times that girls have fairly thrown themselves at you, and not just the ones who were at training camp," said Hermione, with Ron nodding. "We couldn't tell for sure if you were too noble or too dense to take advantage."

"Erm, let's go with the first explanation" said Harry, and they all laughed.

As they laughed, Remus and Tonks came in.

"Out all this time," said Ron, suggestively smirking, "what have you two been up to?"

"Now, now, Ron." said Remus. "Actually, the moon's just now gone down. I couldn't tear myself away. I've always been afraid before and now to be able to look at it, it's just beautiful."

"Yup, that's right!" said Tonks with unmistakable disappointment and annoyance in her voice. "That's _all_ he was interested in."

"Say," said Lupin, after a glance and smile at Tonks, "I didn't get to tell you three my other big news. Now that I'm no longer a werewolf, Dumbledore wants me back as Defense Against the Darks Arts teacher. Maxime is returning to Beauxbatons; unfortunately it looks like Hagrid will be going there, too. Anyway it seems I had good recommendations from some students Dumbledore really respects. Ah, finally, a real job I should be able to stick with."

"Great," said Harry, "I'll be here coaching the DA and teaching flying and apparation. We can coordinate Defense lessons with DA practices – get the theory and the practice together. Not worried about the jinx, are you?"

"Nope. I have a feeling a lot of old problems are melting away now," said Lupin with a broad smile.

"Hey, Remus," said Ron, "let's go find a boggart!"

Lupin laughed. "Now why would we want to do that? I might need them for classes next year."

"Aah, but now that I like spiders and you like the moon, we don't know what to be afraid of. The boggart'll show us what we really fear now."

Lupin thought a second and said, "You know, Ron, that's not a half-bad idea. It should be fun, in a weird way. Let's go."

Before they could go, an enormous shout was heard echoing throughout the entry hall. At first it sounded like Molly Weasley in a towering fit, but then they realized it was Ginny shouting "GRANGER!"

Ron quickly grabbed Harry, Lupin and Tonks and shoved them away toward the wall. "Duck," he hissed at them, pulling them down behind a bench.

"Ron, how can you just abandon Hermione out there like that?" asked Remus.

"Because I know what Ginny's like when she's angry. They had her in mind when they made up the phrase 'Hell hath no fury like a woman!'"

"I believe that's '… a woman scorned,' Ron," corrected Tonks.

"I know what I'm talking about!"

"Granger!" shouted Ginny again, red-faced. She had her wand aimed right at Hermione. "What were you thinking telling Harry I didn't care for him!"

"I didn't say that!" said Hermione, shaking in the face of Ginny's obvious rage. "I told him how hard you worked at the plan and volunteered to pose as his girlfriend, and, oh, erm, …" She turned toward Harry to explain. "Harry, I didn't mean, ... that is, what I was saying is she volunteered because, … You know, she worked at it, … and …" Hermione sounded ever more panicky as she realized how she had misled Harry, though unintentionally.

"Not only did you come near to screwing up our relationship, but you almost ruined the plan – Harry felt like he wasn't worth loving because of what you said!"

"Really?" said Ron with a bemused smile quietly to Harry.

"I had kind of a self-image problem," admitted Harry, taking up the joke.

"Probably explains why you were handing out signed photos in second-year."

"Would you two shut up?" said Tonks. "This is serious. There aren't many things more dangerous than a woman when another woman has threatened her relationship with her boyfriend – especially when that woman's as powerful as Ginny. Harry, go take her wand from her."

"No, thanks. I've done my fighting for a while," said Harry. "You're the auror – you do it."

"Granger, draw your wand," dared Ginny.

"You aren't really going to let them hurt each other, are you, Harry?" whsipered Tonks.

"I'm afraid anything I do might make things worse. Since Voldemort's gone, I have undiluted control of the power we had shared, so I really don't know my own strength. The only magic I've done since then is healing, flying, a bit of conjuring, and that duel at Hagrid's when I was holding back. You go stop them."

Hermione tried to calm the situation. "Now, Ginny, you know I'm sorry about that. I get overexcited at times. You see, that's why you were so much better for it, erm, not that you weren't the best anyway, because, …, I mean, I certainly didn't want to pose as …, I mean,…"

"Ron, that's your sister and your girlfriend. Go stop them," said Tonks.

"Pft! Yeah, right!"

"Granger, draw your wand," growled Ginny.

"Remus, you stop them."

"Harry's right – you're the auror."

"Yeah, but I've seen what those two can do – I'm not going out there."

"But you'd send me? I like that!"

Hermione stared at Ginny. She started to crouch like she was about to fight, and then she straightened up.

"No, Ginny, I won't." She gingerly pulled her wand out with two fingers and dropped it. "There's been enough fighting. You're angry and I understand that. You have a right to be. I made a terrible mistake – but that's all it was, a mistake. I was very excited with the battle beginning and I wasn't clear about what I was telling Harry. Sometimes when I get wound up, I don't express myself so well. So if you're going to hex me, go on and do it. In fact, you choose the hex, and I'll bear with it until it wears off – anything you want to do to punish me for my mistake."

"Whoa, that's brave," whispered Ron, "but then she didn't grow up with Ginny."

"Do you think she'll hex her?" asked Remus quietly.

"No doubt," said Ron. "She's just trying to choose one."

"Ginny,...!" called Harry, in a tone which asked her to consider carefully what she would do.

The seconds ticked by and the Hall was silent. Suddenly Ginny grinned wickedly. She flicked her wand and shouted "DEPILLIATE!" The red and white spell flew at Hermione and wound around her.

"Huh?" said Ron. "Never heard of that one."

"I have," said Harry. "It removes all hair from a person. Tonks is great at it."

"Ooh, thanks, Harry," said Tonks.

"But it didn't do anything," said Ron aloud, as they all stood up.

Hermione turned her head and glared at him, and Ron gave a shocked 'Eep!' as her head turned independently of her big bushy hair. Then the hair lost balance and fell down the back of her robes, all as one, showing that she was as bald as a dragon's egg. Ron came walking up slowly and looked closely at her.

"Whoa, got your eyebrows and eyelashes, too," said Ron. "That's freaky."

Hermione grimaced and glared at him. Then she turned to Ginny, "Are we even now?"

"You're not going to do anything to hide it or make it grow back, are you?"

"No, Ginny, I made the offer and I accept it. I was hoping it would just be the bat-wing bogey hex, but at least it wasn't something that causes permanent harm. Thank you for that."

"Alright then," said Ginny. "Next time think before you speak!"

"Yes, Ginny, you're right."

Ron was gently tugging at Hermione's arm to talk to her.

"What IS it, Ron?"

He whispered a bit in her ear.

"Yes, Ron, ALL," she said peevishly.

He whispered some more.

"Really, Ron?" she said quietly.

He whispered more.

"Really, Ron?" she said breathily.

He whispered again.

"Really, Ron?" she purred. Then she said hurriedly, "Um, Ginny, you certainly have taught me a hard, erm, stern, lesson and I'll never forget it. Got to go now!"

With that, Hermione snatched up her wand and grabbed Ron's hand as they went running up the stairs.

Ginny began to laugh uproariously.

"What?" asked Harry, "What was all that about?"

"Oh, gosh, Harry, you really have missed out on a lot of things, haven't you? I'll explain it later," said Ginny with a relaxed smile.

Then Ginny started to squint and glower at Harry. "You know, Potter, I just realized that you thought I was selling my affections to make a battle plan work. Just what kind of a girl do you think I am?"

"Ginny," gently interrupted Tonks. "Let me tell you what kind of a girl – Harry told me last night about it, or I guess it's two nights now. He has Voldemort's memories of Harry's mother willing, begging, to do anything and everything for Voldemort to save one life – Harry's. If he thought you were willing to do the same to save thousands of lives, I'd say he's putting you in pretty good company."

Ginny looked at him and he nodded. "Oh, well, when you put it like that…" said Ginny.

"Besides," said Tonks boisterously, "he's pretty good to lay some affection on – I know!"

Harry, Ginny and Remus all glared at Tonks. Remus spoke first, "You just had to add that one last bit too much, didn't you? We'd better get out of here while the getting's good. Help me find that boggart - maybe we'll both get good and scared and have to comfort each other."

"Ooh, that sounds like a plan," giggled Tonks, "but who needs the boggart?"


	72. The Man in the Mirror

Chapter 72 The Man in the Mirror

After Tonks and Remus left, Harry and Ginny were about to go get a butterbeer when they heard Arthur Weasley's voice. "Aah, you two were able to evade the crowd quicker than I was."

"Hi, Mr. Weasley."

"Hi, Dad," added Ginny, giving him a hug. "Harry and I were about to have a butterbeer. Shall I get you one, too?"

"Yes, dear, that would be very nice. I'm parched. It's been a very long couple of days."

After she left, Arthur continued. "Dumbledore's filled us all in on your escapade this past morning. When we heard that so many of you had gone missing after the battle, Molly and I were worried sick. We're so relieved that everyone came back safely."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I'm thrilled too, perhaps most because it's all over. Although I had really hoped I could heal him."

"I suppose it's proper that you feel that way, but I hope you understand that none of us are too fussed that he's dead. We've most all suffered terrible losses because of him. Erm, he is truly, finally dead, isn't he?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. I'll trust that you're certain about that. After what happened with him returning after the last time his body was destroyed, I'd like to be sure." said Arthur.

"I'm sure the aurors should be searching the Death Eaters' homes for objects like the Riddle diary to be extra sure of no unpleasant accidents. I'll be checking out the Chamber of Secrets for interesting magic and I'll watch for that sort of hazard."

"Hopefully you'll be better prepared for resisting it than you and Ginny were before. By the way, Harry, if there's any way I can help you out, let me know. It wouldn't even be pulling strings to get you a job in the Ministry. Every department wants you."

"Well, maybe in a few years I'll be ready to try for auror. I have a little experience in the field. Or maybe the Department of Mysteries, if I don't feel like fighting. For right now, I'm going to work here and get some additional training. Dumbledore wants to teach me some things. I'd be a fool to turn that down." Then Harry looked at him craftily and said, "By the way, now that you're officially the Minister of Magic, what should I call you – Lord Minister?"

Arthur laughed. "Oh, you know you can call me anything you like, Harry."

"Really?" said Harry, very earnestly, "because for some time now, I've been thinking how much I'd like to call Mrs. Weasley and you Mum and Dad – if you wouldn't mind. I've always wanted to be able to call someone that and, well, that's rather much how I've come to think of you. Ron and Ginny said they thought it was okay."

Arthur pursed his lips. "Harry, being called Dad has always meant far more to me than any other title I could have. To think that such a fine young man as yourself would choose to call me that – well, I'm overwhelmed - but of course, please do. Molly would be tickled by it as well."

"When I met my parents last night, …" Harry began.

Arthur gasped. "Harry, you don't mean to say that you actually met your parents, do you?"

Harry nodded. "It was while I was healing Madame Maxime. There was a lot of injury. I was very near to death myself. I have, erm, reasons to be confident I actually met them. For one thing they gave me advice that helped me figure out how to defeat Voldemort. Anyway, my Mum told me that there are people willing to love me like a son. And I thought of you and Mrs. Weasley. My Dad told me to let the people who love me do so. I haven't been doing that very well. I'd like to set things right."

"There's nothing to fix, Harry. For several years now, you've been like a son to us. You're welcome to call us parents. Come stay with us anytime – it's not a visit, it's coming home," said Arthur, giving Harry a hug.

"I like the sound of that," said Harry, " – 'coming home'."

Suddenly they were interrupted by Molly Weasley."Harry Potter! You've been leading my little lambs into danger again?" She was storming toward them with an expression Harry could not read.

Then she threw her arms around him and hugged with all her strength. "Aah, Harry, I'm so proud of you and all of you who've ended this once and for all. And you've found a power beyond anything any of us ever imagined – healing! Now, that is indeed special. Thank you so much for what you did for Ron I don't know if I could bear to lose him."

"Molly, dear, Harry here was just asking if he could call us Mum and Dad. I said you'd be tickled," said Arthur.

"Oh. Oh, of course!" Molly began to tear up and hugged Harry once again. "I'd been hoping for some time that you would. I knew though that you had a lot on your mind."

"It's more than I could tell you," said Harry. "I really thought that to destroy Voldemort's power, I would have to get myself killed. I was really rather disappointed when Mr. Wea, uh, er, Dad, refused to do it."

"What! Arthur, I didn't hear about this!"

"Oh, well, Molly, we might have discussed that in the Order meeting in August whilst you were making coffee."

"Well, why didn't you let me know? You certainly didn't give the notion any consideration, did you?"

"Erm, well, er, Molly, I had the whole wizarding world to think about, and …"

"Mum," said Harry, gently, "I made a very good case for it. Even Dumbledore was ready to let him do it – at least I think he was. There were a lot of lives at stake. By the way, the offer's off, Dad."

"I already figured that out, Harry," said Arthur with a smile.

Ginny came up handing Harry and her father each one of the butterbeers she was carrying.

Molly took the other one from her, "Thank you, dear." When Ginny started to open her mouth in protest, Molly stopped her and said, "Didn't I already see you with a butterbeer earlier – you're too young to be drinking more."

Harry winked and smiled at her. "I'll share, Ginny." He took a swig and handed the bottle to her. She sneered at her mother and pointedly took a large swallow, but it bubbled up into her nose, making her choke and sneeze. The others covered their mouths as they laughed.

"Mum, Dad," said Harry, "there is something I would like to talk with you about. I'm concerned about the responsibilities of this new power to heal I have."

"What do you mean, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, how much do you know about how the healing works?" responded Harry.

"Well, I saw you in the Hospital Wing last night, but you were so focused, we weren't even sure if you noticed us – oh, we all understood, don't worry. We saw you with Minerva McGonagall, but all we could really tell is that you concentrated very hard, then there was that green glow all over her, and your body got very tense, and after the longest 2 or 3 minutes ever, she was okay. Later last night, Ron said that you have to think very intensely about removing the person's injury to get the green glow in your eyes. Oh, he also said it seems to tire you out while it happens and if you need more strength, you draw it from others nearby," explained Mrs. Weasley.

And Arthur Weasley added, "Dumbledore was just telling me this evening it involves caring very deeply for the person you're healing, and taking the injury away, but then he got choked up and couldn't finish. Very odd that; he's usually so completely self-composed."

"That's mostly it. I have to find it in myself to love that person enough to desire that the injury become mine instead of the other person's, and that's what actually happens. When Tonks' leg and abdomen were being healed, my leg broke and my belly tore open. When I healed Ron, my chest was sliced and my skull split open, and with Professor McGonagall, I felt every stunner that hit her, every bit of the cruciatus curse inflicted. When I was healing Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, the pain was so intense I think I would have killed anyone if I thought it would make the pain stop: the only thing that got me through it without going insane as they did was the knowledge that it would soon end. Well, that and knowing I was bearing it for an excellent reason. I even felt the emotions each felt as they watched the other being tortured alternately." Harry closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory of that.

"If I hadn't been able to draw strength from others, I would have died when I tried to heal Madame Maxime from the killing curse. That ability to draw on others also saved me, of course, when Voldemort tried to kill me this morning. What I'm afraid of now is this: that some day my body will overrule my mind andsay 'no, I know this person is hurting terribly and will die, but I just don't want to hurt like that anymore, even for a little while. Let someone else hurt, not me.' My mind might say one thing, but the body could say the other, and someone could die because of that. I would be very sad and ashamed of myself if that happened."

Arthur shook his head sympathetically. "I hadn't realized what a precious price you were paying for what you did, Harry. You've done an awful lot already. Don't worry about the future. I'm sure that when you see a person in need, you won't have any hesitation. You never have before. Most people have no problem refusing to help. Muggles die every day because too few of them will bear the pain of a pinprick to donate a pint of blood – they don't have blood restorer potion, so they depend on the care of their neighbor to donate needed blood, and too often it's just not available. You already know that you would feel shame over acting like that. You just care too much to do otherwise. You'll find the strength and it'll see you through."

"You know, Harry," added Molly, "in some ways that's not so different from what women go through. Look at me – after every baby, I swore I'd never have another. But then, I'd forget the pain, remember the joy of each new person I had given life to, and, well, I just found it in me to keep going." She grabbed Ginny by the shoulders: "And aren't you glad I persisted! So you give life in your way, I gave life in mine. The pains you've had have been more intense, but trust me - the memory will fade soon enough, and when you're asked to give someone a chance to live, you'll rise to the occasion."

"I guess you're right. The memory of the pain is already getting a little dull. And one of the things I learned last night was the importance of mixing plenty of fun and joy in with the pain. One problem though is that I've spent so long obsessing about fighting, I'm rather rusty at knowing how to have fun - I think I'm going to see about finding someone who can be my happiness coach, someone to teach me to enjoy living."

Ginny responded immediately, squaring toward him, with feet set at shoulder width and fists on her hips. "Well, if you don't have me in mind for that job, Harry Potter, you're going to be reminded what pain is like!"

Harry laughed; he held her head with both hands and kissed her on the forehead. "Don't worry, you fiery redhead – you're exactly who I had in mind."

"Good choice, Harry," said Arthur, placing an arm around Molly and drawing her close. "She's very much her mother's daughter, and Molly's never failed to bring joy into my life, not once."

Molly giggled and hugged Arthur back.

Harry smiled. "Mmm. I wish we had some music: I'd really like to dance with you, Ginny. It's time to start enjoying."

"Oh, Harry, I'd love that. Dad, can you conjure something?" Ginny asked.

Before Arthur could answer, music filled the entry hall – it was haunting, tender, joyous, calming and invigorating at the same time.

"What is that music?" said Ginny.

"This is phoenixsong," said Harry.

Ginny sighed contentedly. "It makes me feel almost as good as Harry's kisses."

"Almost?" asked Molly. "This is heavenly, and if it's only second-best, then you really are in trouble, sweetheart. But it's wonderful trouble to be in with the right man." Then she added, "I know," and hugged up again to Arthur.

Harry looked around the Hall. "Fawkes must have heard my wish for music. Dumbledore always says that music is one of the most wondrous and powerful forms of magic. I can't tell you how phoenixsong has carried me over the worst of times." He breathed deep, like he was smelling the first warm day of spring. "It's just as magical in happy times. Ginny, let's dance."

"Well, if we don't dance together, I'll be dancing all alone. I wouldn't be able to stop myself."

Harry took her by the hand and they stepped out to an open area. Then they held each other, with Ginny's head against Harry's chest, and his cheek against the top of her head, and they began dancing closely and tenderly. After watching for a minute, Arthur and Molly too began to dance. Other couples soon joined them; then others and still others.

At some point Harry became aware of Professor Dumbledore trying to catch his attention. Harry glanced up and saw that Dumbledore had brought the Mirror of Erised into the Hall and was nodding his head sideways toward it. Harry didn't want to interrupt his dance with Ginny, so he very gradually led that direction. As he looked at first, at an angle, all he could see is the reflection of the others dancing in the Hall. Then as he got closer, he saw his mother and father dancing just as he and Ginny were.

"That's nice," thought Harry, "but was that really that important? The only real surprise there is that I don't feel so fascinated at seeing my parents as I used to."

Then Harry looked in the mirror again, and the light was now right for him to notice that the man in the mirror had green eyes. It wasn't James Potter: it was Harry. And the witch in the mirror had red hair that was too bright for her to be Lily Potter: it was Ginny. He saw nothing that wasn't as it really was in the Hall.

"Harry?" said Ginny. "You seem distracted. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing at all, Ginny. I was just realizing that right now, being in this place, with the war finally over, surrounded by all these good people, and most importantly, holding you close in my arms, there is not a happier man in the entire world."

"Oh! Well, you just keep holding that thought."

"And you?"

"What?"

"I told you how I was feeling. How about you?"

She smiled and nuzzled her face even closer to his chest. "I feel the same, and I'm thinking of ways we can be happier still."

"Right, then. You're the coach."

"And don't you forget it."

Harry then realized that he didn't need to be so intense, the habit of years under attack. Without the war, there really shouldn't be that many times when he would be called on to heal someone injured beyond the healers' abilities. He'd take it as it came. For now, there was no mad sociopath trying to murder him, he had people that loved him and that he loved, he had interesting and fun work to do for several years at least, and right this moment he had in his arms a beautiful and delightful witch, whose hair smelled of - he sniffed, okay, well, battle sweat and lake water - but she was holding him and he was holding her, and they both cared very much for each other. For right now there was nothing to worry about. It was time to really start living.


	73. Author's Ending Note

Author's Note. This was the end of the story. What previously been an extended epilogue is being worked into an '8th-year story' in which Harry tries to settle into life without being a student and the target of Lord Voldemort. Like many of those who come back from war, he finds some difficulty settling back into society. I have a good start on it, and I am quite exceited about how it is developing, but I can't make any promises as to when I will start posting it.


End file.
